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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Something about him looks serious—broody, like the bad-boy love interest in a romance novel. The one the heroine doesn’t end up with because she decides the light-haired good guy is a more sensible choice.
“I said I was giving you space. Not that I was giving up.” “I don’t like space,” I whisper. “I fucking hate it.” His large hand slips around the small of my back, and he ducks his head, lowering his mouth until it’s hovering above my own.
There is no playing it safe when it comes to love; it’s a contact sport for your heart.
Lol
