Jesteśmy społecznością, która kocha książki

I don’t like you. I don’t like how your hair smells, and how I can’t stop thinking about waking up and seeing your face. I hate how my bed felt empty
when you left. I don’t like how good you were with my family, especially Harper, and how I wanted to see you with them again, but not just as a guest.
As a member. You’re right. I don’t like you at all.

-You’re an ass, I said as we walked back upstairs.
-Nothing I didn’t already know, Miss.
-I hate you.
-Nice try.
-I love you? Worth a shot.
-Not yet. But you will.

I’m still going to be an ass. I’ll just be an ass who apologizes and brings you flowers to say he’s been a
dick.