Beg You to Trust Me (Lindon U, #2)

by B. Celeste

Because I didn’t say no. But I can’t remember if I said yes either…

And he’s got chicken legs. No meat. I don’t know why that pisses me off, but it does.

“Do you think Mr. NYU is going to quiz us on this week’s content? Because all I wrote down is ‘douche’ and something tells me that’s not going to help me very much.”

“I do laugh, you know.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Not enough.”

When you spend a long time wondering where you fit in, you hold on a little tighter to the people who make you feel like the perfect sized puzzle piece in their jigsaw puzzle.

Should I be concerned that you’re asking about dinner in the same conversation you mentioned Jeffrey Dahmer?

Truth is an ugly thing. A monster in the dark. It’s always lingering, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But once it’s spoken, the power it has suddenly becomes nobody’s power except your own.

I’m broken. Somebody broke me in that room.