Watching out the window, long after the handyman left, Jiao visibly jumped when Sheng laid a hand on her shoulder.
"You scared me," she admonished, a twinge of guilt assailing her at having gotten caught staring.
"The immature i***t is gone, so why are you still watching?"
"A better question is why you acted like such a jerk?"
The hand slid off her shoulder with the accusation and she turned to regard Sheng as he paced the living room. Sparse, because of their recent move here, it contained a red pleather couch ? because no shifter with an ounce of morality would own the real thing ? a plush armchair in black crushed velvet ? which attracted hair like crazy ? and an oval glass table in need of cleaning. Again. She hated the damned thing. Stupid dust collector.
"I saw no point in wasti
