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I was a stranger to feeling bad for a man—men in general, honestly. Especially for something I did to them. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about it.
“I’d rather be alone with an open petri dish full of an airborne flesh-eating virus than listen to my own thoughts.” Collins sighed. “Good for you.”
“I’d rather get thrown off a cliff than live to be a hundred, and if it’s all your fault because of your insistence on the damn hugs, I’m bringing you with me.”
The look he gave me didn’t just give me butterflies in my stomach. I felt like those motherfuckers had made their way all the way to my toes.
