Well, he could if he put his mind to it. Speed reading was a learned skill after all. "Just like you're hideously Scottish. It's so bad, I wouldn't be surprised to learn you were born in a kilt with a bottle of whisky in your sporran." Seriously - how much more Scottish could a man get?
Now she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed together, "I would never pry on purpose. It's not my bloody business." Her tone was almost angry at the insinuation but she'd had to defend herself so many times to people, it was irritating. Even when it could have helped her in her book buying days, she hadn't done it. There were some lines you didn't cross because if you did, there was no turning back.
"Oh, you ate the dog?" she sounded honestly disappointed - but she wasn't surprised that his beast had led him to murder. That was the usual story, wasn't it? Someone always got hurt with a newly turned shifter, if they didn't have someone to help. "Callum... I know that's not you, though. You could barely stay upright when I was bleeding all over the place. That's the beast. Once you learn how to control it, then you can be blamed."
She paused for a moment, wetting her lips before continuing, "I won't lie to you - it's... terrifying. But I trust you. I just know that it's far more difficult to trust someone like me. Nobody likes having their secrets open for viewing."