Emily Glinski

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I’m not sure what I expected him to grab—maybe more sunscreen for my sunburnt skin—but a book is clutched in his hands, tiny, colorful tabs sticking out of the pages. “Kit, did you annotate a book for me?” I ask. The corners of his lips tick up into a loving grin. “I’d annotate an entire library for you if it meant that I got to see you smile.”
The Worst Kind of Promise (Riverside Reapers #2)
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