Not. Your. Fault." I nodded again, holding onto his words like they were redemption.
Oh No! My wings are effed up!
But the scars are always there, waiting for something to poke them.
You 're so beautiful.
So when do we get to the junk-kicking?
Brooke?” I puff out a sigh. “For chrissake, Reid, who do you think it is? And haven’t you put me into your contacts yet?” “Yeah... It just says Satan, though, and I forgot I’d assigned that title to you.