Sweet Venom by Tera Lynn Childs
"A dragon ice sculpture?" Kyle asks, his voice a little too full of awe for my taste. "Sounds radical."
I clench my jaw. It's not his use of entirely outdated slang--he's single-handedly trying to bring back the eighties' surfer lingo-- that bothers me. He's my boyfriend and he's supposed to take my side. In everything.
Guess who's not getting a goodnight kiss.
"Sorry babe." -- PG. 239