“You like it. My testosterone. You’d like to be poisoned by it, admit it.” “There’s that sense of unearned self-confidence,” she said, her heart hammering steadily against her chest. “Right on time.” “It’s not unearned. I watch you. When we fight. Your face gets all flushed.” “That’s called anger.” “Why? What is it about me that makes you so damned angry?” “You… You are just…a useless, base ape.” “Base?” He asked the question with a dangerous sort of softness to his voice, and it made her trem­ble. “That’s what you think? That I’m like an animal who can’t control himself?” “Yes,” she spat. “I know all about you and your reputation. You get drunk at the bar, you pick up women every night of the week.” “I don’t get drunk,” he said. “That’s not me.” “Maybe that’s how you see yourself, but it’s not what I hear. I hear that you’re just a big, dumb, blunt instrument. You might go on and on about how you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps, but your daddy made all this happen. You might wear a cowboy hat, but there’s a silver spoon in your mouth the same as mine. So don’t you…