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“Decent? Lennon Hawkins thinks I’m a talentless pigeon.” What the fuck? “Whoa, I did not write that.”
He’s like a poison apple from all those fairy tales. Pretty on the outside but can destroy me if I take a bite.
His smile has the ability to break hearts and light up the goddamn room, and if I could, I’d write an entire article on how pretty he is when he’s not scowling.
When Noah told me Jet was Matt’s little brother, I expected a mini, younger, broody Matt. Turns out, he’s an adorable twink with attention deficit disorder.
I mean, I joke about you being brainless, but we both know you’re not. You’re actually quite articulate.”
This is worse than Daniel and Dylan combined. Because this time? Physical injuries aren’t a worry. Nope. Ollie has the ability to tear my heart out.
“Oh, thank God.” The voice comes from the entry to the pressroom, and as Ollie steps back, the coach appears in my line of vision. “I was sure it was gonna be a drug or prostitute problem. Maybe a DUI.” Ollie huffs a tiny laugh. “No, sir, just your run-of-the-mill homosexuality.”
“I think we’ve proved multiple times I don’t need a dick in my ass to get off.” “And people say romance is dead.”