More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
It was January. It was wet. It was cold. And for some strange, disconcerting reason, I was burning the fuck up on the inside.
“Hi,” she breathed. I blew out a relieved breath. “Hi.” “That’s really your face?” she asked, eyes drooping, as she studied me with a vacant expression. “It’s so pretty.” “Uh, thanks?” I offered uncomfortably, still cupping her cheeks in my hands. “It’s the only one I have.”
“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “Of course, I like you.” He tugged on his hair and sighed. “I think it’s pretty fucking clear that I’m mad about you.” Exhaling a pained groan, he added, “But I’ll be eighteen in May, Shannon.”