Jude’s not just another guy I’m attracted to. God, if only that’s all he was. If it were just his sharp jawline or the way he looks behind the wheel of his car, this would be easy. I’d let the loyalty to my last name crush the pull I feel toward him. It’d be a temporary thing, a fleeting spark I could smother. But he’s not just a Sinclair. He’s also Jude. The loner. The poet.
