“Romance novels?” Max questioned. “Which subgenre?” Up until that moment, Max had been doing a really good job of holding it together. But this? “What?” Xander said. “What did I say?” “You.” Max pointed at him. “Your opinion on romance novels depends on the subgenre!” Max stared at him and was reminded of why staring at Xander Hawthorne was not a good idea. “You, with the face! And the abs! And the blankets!” “I also have a cactus,” Xander reminded her. “Mr. Pointy,” Max said. And just like that, she knew: This was happening. “I should not do this. We should definitely not do this.” “Of course
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