Don’t say hate, Stark. You kids throw that word around so much it’s lost all of its meaning. Now I have to find a word stronger than hate to describe how I feel about others. Hmmmmm...I mega-loathe you all. Good day.
He’d been going about it all wrong. Ransom knew that now. He
and Holster both—completely wrong.
Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to skid into the kitchen at a
lightning pace and startle Bitty enough to cause him to throw the bowl
he’d been whisking entirely over his head, but Ransom was trying to fix a past
mistake. He hadn’t intended to cause a new one. They both eyed the now empty
mixing bowl and the puddle of batter on the floor.
“Ransom!” Bitty yelped. Then, once he realized all
his hard work was gone, he repeated in a much more annoyed voice, “Ransom.”
“Sorry, Bits,” Ransom said, wincing. He reached
for the roll of paper towels on the counter. “I’ll clean it up. You can
start over, if you want. Sorry.”
Bitty’s shoulder’s sagged, and Ransom nearly winced again
because he was still going about this all wrong.