“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” He stands, walking over to me, and presses me against the door. I swallow, gazing into those gorgeous green eyes that devour me whenever we’re in a room together. It’s a secret, our thing, but shit like defending me in a public fight threatens to let that escape. I ought to tell him to go home, and to stop texting. “Just that I’d never let you fight alone.”
―
Grace Reilly,
Stealing Home
