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there’s beauty in every beast. Thorns in every rose. And a love story can blossom—even from the carcass of hate.
“You’re going to be a headache, aren’t you?” “A headache?” I cocked my head. “You kidnapped me, you psycho. I’m not gonna be a headache. I’m going to be, at the very least, a deadly brain tumor.”
Momma was right. Men are more basic than a little black dress.
How’s she maintaining that ass? Five hundred squats a day?” Try two sleeves of Oreos and a McFlurry.
“You’re my favorite plot twist.”