“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.” He folded his arms across his chest.“Anything?”“You trust me.”

“I'll accept your apology on one condition." He folded his arms across his chest."Anything?""You trust me."I cocked my head to the side. "I trust you, Cam.""No, you don't." He walked over to my small table and pulled out a chair. "Have a seat."Sitting down, I tugged the hem of his shirt down as he headed back to the stove, putting the tiny skillet over the burner."If you trusted me, you wouldn't have reacted the way you did," he simply said, cracking an egg. "And that's not me judging you or any of that kind of shit. You got to trust me that I'm not going to be an ass or freak out over that kind of stuff. You have to trust that I care enough about you.”

“I'm not going to be a distraction for you, or allow you to be one for me.""A distraction?" He folded his arms across his chest. "Is that what you think you are? What I am? Bloody hell, woman. I need something to distract me from you!”

“Then he folded his arms on his chest, so his biceps strained at the sleeves of his t-shirt, courtesy of the arm curl machine.”

“Well, well, well," said Aitch Dee, his arms folded across his chest. "Well, well, well, well," replied Pavel, not to be out welled.”

“He smiled at that, and then his gaze shifted to a spot over my shoulder and it faded. 'These doubts wouldn’t have anything to do with the company you’re keeping of late, would they?'I didn’t get a chance to answer before the shop door was thrown open and a furious war mage stomped in. Pritkin spotted me and his eyes narrowed.'You shaved my legs?!'Mircea looked at me and folded his arms across his chest. I looked from one unhappy face to the other and suddenly remembered that I had somewhere else to be.”