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For the ones with the hardest shells and the softest hearts.
Angry, guarded, covered in art, Connor Grace’s broad shoulders are rolled back, brows a dark slash, beautiful face a mask of stunning arrogance. And based on our interaction earlier today, he’s just as fragile as the rest of us.
I reach up and press my palm to his cheek. His eyes flare in surprise. “Stand down, Connor. Just because you’re everyone else’s villain doesn’t mean you need to be mine, too.”
“What happened to you?” The saddest smile tips the corner of her mouth. “I survived when I probably shouldn’t have.” She disappears into her room, the door closing with a quiet snick.
