“Aeron’s stone-faced expression cracked, as he turned to give me a dumbfounded look. Meeting his questioning eyes, I let out a little annoyed sigh, “I refuse to believe that you don’t know the meaning of ‘cojones’.”“I’m well aware of the meaning,” he raised his eyebrows, fighting back a smile. “Just a little surprised at your choice of words…”“Yeah, I can really paint a verbal picture,” I responded dryly.”

“I can only imagine what goes on in that head of yours…” he teased. “I assure you I haven’t taken up black magic, ritualistic sacrifice, or—”“Plushophilia?” I tagged on.“Excuse me?…” came his half-confused, half-intrigued reaction.“An obsession with stuffed animals,” I clarified. “I mean, you are a young one…”“Where did you come up with that?” He kept his hands firmly covering my eyes, but I could hear the amused smile in his voice. “Is that even a real word?”“I’m a doctor, I know these things,” I shrugged.”

“You get a kick out of shocking the pants off me, don’t you?” I shook my head with a smirk.He just shrugged with a playful smile, his eyes momentarily flitting toward my pants before returning to meet my gaze.“It’s an expression,” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t tell me you aren’t familiar with it, Mr. Smarty Pants.”“You have quite a repertoire of ‘pants’ references, don’t you?”

“A teasing smirk flitted across his face, as he completed his thought, “I’ll try not to take it too hard if I fail miserably, because you can be the world’s greatest skeptic…”“Nah…” I coughed out a little chuckle, “not when you’re involved. I’m your number one fan…You couldn’t shake me if you tried.” I gave him a playful wink, adding musingly, “Though I might stop short of hanging out in the bushes with binoculars…”“Well, then,” he grinned, “clearly you’re not my number one fan.”

“I’m not familiar with this word you were repeating before…‘cojones’, was it?”I blushed as Dominick patted me on the back. “Way to introduce him to the vernacular, Palta.”

“Yeah, sure,” I scoffed. “You’re the picture of respectability and moral character…You expect me to believe you were your parents’ worst nightmare? What was your criminal act of choice—drunken bar fights? Or maybe grand theft auto? Don’t tell me you sold the crown jewels to buy drugs…It’s so disappointingly cliché.”

“Think of mental energy as broadcasting on a certain wavelength,” he tried to explain. “People with powers of the mind can tap into that wavelength…”“That’s all fine and good,” I nodded, “but evidently my transmitter is broken. Or much more likely…I never had one in the first place.”“Ah, yes,” he nodded unenthusiastically, “and your nose is mounted upside-down.”“Excuse me?” My forehead creased.“I do wish you would quit contradicting me,” he let out a tired sigh. “It’s insulting…and highly annoying.”