Bared to You (Crossfire, #1)

by Sylvia Day

I often wished that could be the end of it, but my mom had a difficult time accepting that I didn’t view money the same way she did.

Oh no. I was cursed. A rapid-fire series of images flashed through my mind, showcasing a thousand ways I could stumble, fall, trip, skid, or crash in front of the sex god over the days, weeks, and months ahead.

toughed

I’d be happy wearing my flannel pajama bottoms and holey old tank top all weekend. As much as I hurt inside, total comfort outside seemed like a necessity.

“I must’ve wished for you so hard and so often you had no choice but to come true.”

And yet I understood the alienation of being around others who couldn’t really see you or chose not to. I’d felt the self-loathing that came with being a fraud, portraying an image of what you wished you could be but weren’t. I’d lived with the fear that the people you loved might turn away from you if they ever got to know the true person hidden inside.