Wild Eyes (Rose Hill, #2)

by Elsie Silver

“You done gawking? Or should I flex while I wait for you to pull that phone out and take my number?”

I’m no open book, but it seems as though all West needs to do is look at the cover to know something’s wrong. He sees past all the vibrant colors, all the shiny foiling. It’s like no matter how pretty the cover is, he knows that if he opened the book, the pages would be blank. I can’t fool him. He sees right through me.