"What are you wearing, Anthony?" I asked, scanning him up and down. Clinging to his lean frame was a perfectly tailored black suit. His hair was combed, and he had a dozen red roses in his clenched fist. "I have to make a good first impression, Killer," he said in a way that made me think it was supposed to be obvious.
i have never loved a man the way i love anthony oh. my. god.
