Sylvia grabs my sleeve. “He’s a looker.” “I know. The problem is, he knows it, too.
Listen, I don’t know what the hell happened between you and Marco. To be honest I don’t really want to know, ’cause if I did I’d probably want to kick the shit outta him.” “I don’t need you to protect me.” “What if I want to?
A text pops up on the screen. It’s from Luis. I can’t help but grin when I read his perfectly thought-out message.
I have trust issues.” “I know. I’m on a mission to cure you of that.
You look like a hot tamale.” “That’s not really a compliment.
I’ll always love you, no matter what happens, okay?
I have to protect you,” he says softly.
Listen, I didn’t ask for a face and body girls find attractive. But thanks to the mixture of my parents’ DNA, I’ve got them, and I’m not ashamed to use ’em.
What’s with all those tattoos? Makes you look like a hooligan.” “I suspect I am a hooligan.
cause if you were my girlfriend and a stud like me was livin’ in your house, I’d kiss you in front of the guy every chance I got as a reminder.
The Professor doesn’t have a problem being called Dick? If my name was Richard, I’d go by Richard or Rich . . . not Dick. Hell, I’d even settle for being called Chard.
Nikki looks at me, confused. “What’s wrong?” “Nothin’.
