Mason Thorne released her hand, poured himself another large glass, and drank it down. As if that wasn't enough, he grabbed the bottle and started drinking straight from it. She finally snapped back to her senses and rushed to snatch the bottle from his hand. "Are you crazy? Drinking like that will kill you!"
With the bottle snatched away, Mason Thorne flopped onto the floor. He seemed to be talking to himself, yet also to her. "I don't want to believe it either. What's so great about you, anyway? You're two years older than me, not to mention you have that rowdy little drag-along. You're not gentle at all, and your Boxing is so damn intimidating I'm scared to even touch you. There are plenty of girls who are gentler, younger, and prettier than you. So why is it that you're the only one I can think about?"
"Then your brain must have short-circuited!"
