theresa goodwin

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"Holland." He whispers my name raggedly, and for the first time, I think he might feel the same way that I do. I can hear the tortured tone of his voice. The same hesitation that I feel, but wish wasn’t present; the same way that I want him to kiss me, but he knows he can’t. That we can’t. I tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear and look away, the intensity of his stare burning directly to my core. "Fuck, you're beautiful."
Change on the Fly (Totally Pucked, #1)
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