Lisa Castecka | lisawiththegoodbooks

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She unzips her purse and procures her pepper spray canister while marching to the door, guarded by Thatcher. Jane reaches him and lifts her chin since he’s a whole foot taller. “Excuse me, Thatcher, but there are people I need to have words with on my best friend’s behalf. Move aside.” Yeah, alright, I’m smiling.
Alphas Like Us (Like Us, #3)
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