Max laughed. “Nope. It’s a different quote. Want me to take my shirt off so you can see it? You started this dirty conversation.”
“No, I did not, and I don’t want to see your tattoo. What I would love to see is you not talking and bothering me while we watch the British baking show.”
“Aww, I was in a Potter mood.”
“Too bad. I need something relaxing. These people never argue and everyone is so friendly,” she said, turning on the correct channel.
“I’m very friendly.”
“Debatable,” she muttered, trying to ignore him and how stupidly adorable he looked with Elise cradled on his chest.
Her emotions and brain were ping-ponging all over the place with him. She probably should’ve gone to her room, but she stayed, sitting too close to him on the couch, as he murmured sweet words to the infant on his chest.
He was a contradiction, and she had no clue what to do with him.
She was incapable of ignoring him.
And now she desperately wanted to know what quote he had tattooed somewhere on his body.
She would not Google it.
She.
Would.
Not.