Angelina couldn't help noticing the way he looked her over and felt slightly conscious of it. She still couldn't quiet reconcile that this was really Warrington. The same sloth-faced, rather vicious player who injured her more than once - a game - for as long as he was on the team? Though she clearly remember giving him as good as she got.
There was nothing sloth-like about him now, and the expression on his face was almost mild in comparison to the death-mask that fixed on it during matches. She finally realized what he'd said, and focused on that, rather that the look he'd given her. "Wait, why don't I want that model?" she asked, bristling a little at his tone. She didn't really, but she didn't like how he sounded almost as though he were making the choice for her.