Face Off (D.C. Stars, #1)

by Chelsea Curto

“If you want to get wasted, I’ll keep an eye on you. If you want to take eight shots, I’ll make sure you get to bed safely.” “And if I want to dance with someone else?” “I’ll break his fingers.”

Maverick’s smile rivals the sun, and I want to bottle it up. Keep it for when my days get dark and gray, a reminder of how much good is left in the world.

Is it the way to tell people that when I look at her, I see the sun and the moon and all the fucking stars?