I was sitting on the kitchen counter glaring at Nick. He refused to continue our talk in the car about me coming with them tomorrow, but I wouldn't drop it.
"It will increase your odds," I said to a grumpy Nick, who was sitting in the chair in my living room. He had his arms crossed over his chest and looked unrelenting.
"You will only be a distraction. I can't keep my eye on you while I'm focusing on my task," he said and shook his head.
"But that's the thing, Nick. I don't need your protection anymore. I can handle myself now; I'm actually a great shooter," I argued and hopped down from the counter. He shook his head again, and I grunted in annoyance. Walking over to him, I sat on his lap and placed an arm around his neck. His arms automatically rested around me, but he looked tire
