Get With the Program

GAHRYE

Kalle stood square on to Dillon, the long, dark green sweater she wore flaring out from under her fists, which were resting on her hips. Her eyes were bright and aflame.

Dillon stood with his back to Gahrye, but close to her. Far too close to her. Gahrye tensed.

Kalle caught his eye from the side.

"I would be happy to kick this pup in the ass and send him home whining, if you'd like," he ground out, glaring at Dillon's back.

Kalle's lips twitched, but she shook her head. "Dillon was just leaving."

"No, I wasn't," the male growled. "You can't be serious about this guy. He doesn't even have a job, right? You've known him for what… two months, maybe?"

Kalle snorted. "You said you were in love with me after six weeks!"

Gahrye felt the words like a tiny knife sliding between his ribs. But he didn't flinch.

"That's you and me," Dillon insisted. "This loser is—"