“Do you—Dean, I need to know what you feel. For me.” Any second, things could change. “I feel… something.” Dean’s words came unevenly. He turned toward me, his leg brushing against mine. “But I don’t know if I can—I don’t know if it’s enough.” He closed my hand around the tube of lipstick I was holding, his hand covering mine. “I don’t know if I can.…”
… I hate men
