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A profiler, an emotion reader, and a lie detector went to a party.…
The boy’s name was Geoffrey. With a G. That was how he’d introduced himself on the way to the lecture hall—like it would have been a tragedy if I’d mistakenly thought he was Jeffrey with a J.
“That guy’s a tool,” Derek replied. Quite frankly, I thought that tools who lived in tool houses probably shouldn’t throw stones.
One second Dean was next to me, and the next he had Christopher pinned to the wall, his forearm pressed against Trina’s son’s throat.
i love dean so much i just can't handle it!!!!!
“Touch her again,” Michael told Christopher conversationally, “and Dean will be the one trying to pull me off of you.” Michael told me once that when he lost it, he really lost it. I could hear it beneath his pleasant tone—if Christopher laid another hand on me, Dean might not be able to pull Michael off.
OKKKKKKK i thought i was team dean 110%, but michael!!!!! *squeals*
Sterling turned to Michael. I expected her to ask him something, but instead she just held out her hand. “Keys.” “Spatula,” Michael replied. She narrowed her eyes at him. “We aren’t just saying random nouns?” he asked archly. “Give me your keys. Now.”
i'm cackling
