Emma Hart

Zeke drawled, coming up behind his younger brother. His blue-green eyes pierced straight into mine.

my Jack Russell, Delilah, rubbing her wet nose against my bare ankle

In fact, my tolerance for people talking to me is quite low. Non-existent, if I’m completely honest. How I survive

Long story short: Making bad mistakes is something I’m very good at

Life Goal #3: Don’t kill the stupid people. Let them stick their fingers in a plug socket or something.

Try again, Ezekiel.”

“It’s kinda hot when you call me Ezekiel.”

“You’re only saying that because you think it’ll annoy me.”

With his dark hair, oceanic blue-green eyes, smoldering smile, and a yes-let-me-lick-whipped-cream-off-you

Sitting only feet away at a table with a pretty blond is Zeke Elliott. I don’t need to see his face to know it’s him—his messy, dark

You’re five-feet-nothing.”

“Five-five!” I stand on the counter and really look at the window

What are you, five?”

“Twenty-seven, but pretending I’m five has it’s benefits. Like getting ice-cream.” His smile reflected