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If people came with warning labels, I’m almost positive Adrian’s would read, among other things: dangerously addictive. Proceed with caution.
Heart over head. Ruin over self-preservation.
Because there, tucked beneath his collarbone and positioned right over his chest, Adrian has a tattoo of a poppy flower.
“Tell me what kind of apology you’d like.” My breath hitches. “One with you on your knees.”
WOOF WOOFFFF
