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Linc wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Wyatt opened the door, but it wasn’t a sullen fallen angel with sparkling green eyes and a riot of blond curls. He was all sleek muscle and sharp edges, lithe like he’d gotten those muscles swimming laps in the pool, not hitting the weights at the gym. His features were almost…delicate. High cheekbones and a perfect jawline. He was…he was pretty. Beautiful, even. Sculptors spent lifetimes trying to create that kind of perfection.
“Do you want—” Linc started. “Yes,” Wyatt interrupted. Linc tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.” Wyatt’s hands flailed. “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what you were going to say. The answer is yes. Whatever you want…I’ll always say yes.”
What was the harm in pretending, just for a little while, that he could have a happy ending?
You tell me every day that you love me, even if you don’t say it out loud.”

