Rico smiles at the mahogany horse cavorting in the ring. “This is a happy horse,” he whispers excitedly in Maxzyne’s ear. “Maybe you are right about la policía.”
“Team Maxzyne is always right,” she whispers, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue. “Now just let me do the talking.”
“Nobody does that better than you, X, Z, and Y,” he quietly taunts, ducking the jab she tries to give with her elbow.
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