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The hormone-ruled side of me knows it’s bullshit. Theo and I won’t be friends. We’ll fuck and move on. I have no strength to resist that man, and there is one tag that all Hayes brothers share: player.
I press my hand to her head, pulse throbbing in my neck. She’s too hot. Hotter than before. She’ll end up in the ER if we don’t lower the fever. “When did you take Tylenol last?” “Four in the morning.” “You’re so fucking irresponsible, Thalia.” I take her shoes off, scooping her into my arms. “You should’ve taken another dose at eight.”
Neither the tone of his voice nor the way he manhandled me just now agree with me, but I’ve heard enough stories about Nico’s uncontainable rage that I wouldn’t dare argue with him while every one of his gestures screams bloody murder.

