Cáel sighed. “Look, right now? Either you want Rose, or you don’t. If you do—and, quite frankly, it’s obvious to me that you do—then give the woman a break and give yourself some credit for not being a whack job. Women are strange creatures, Gray, and she isn’t a mind reader. Who the hell knows what kind of conclusions she’s drawn over your behavior? Shit or get off the pot.” It was a good thing Gray wasn’t drinking anything, or he’d have choked on that one. “That’s your advice on love? ‘Shit or get off the pot’?
