“I’m Drusilla.” She stuck out her hand. “Drusilla Blackthorn. Call me Dru.” He gave a dry sort of chuckle and shook her hand. His was warm. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” Dru felt herself blush. Jaime wasn’t as perfectly handsome as Perfect Diego—his nose was a little too big, his mouth too wide and mobile—but his eyes were a brilliant sparkling brown, his lashes wickedly long and black. And there was something about him, a sort of energy that Diego didn’t have, handsome as he was.
Oh Dru, this slimy boy is about to prey on all of your insecurities.
