I'm not going to make a big deal about a few tummy flutters because...dead people, old people, even furniture would get butterflies if they met this guy.

I grab my bag and open the door, trying to ignore him. But ignoring Gray Porter is like ignoring an elephant in a tutu. A really hot elephant-in a very manly tutu.

She's trapped me on the front side of the counter. Way. Too. Close. To. Her. LIP-GLOSS.

This time, I know all of his tricks: dimples, divots, smiles, and cute eye-crinkle things. Bring it on.

I do have rough, manly, and mannish, man hands. So glad you noticed.

The tragedy is all right there...in the very beginning when he smiles at her. When she instantly forgets. Forgets how dangerous he is.

I haven't come here with you for the sole purpose of making out,” I evade, wondering if she can hear my heart.She scrunches her nose, arches a brow, and meets my gaze dead on with her cutest challenge glare. “Well that's why I've brought you here.

Name me Edward, or Peeta, or Prince Charming, and I swear—I'll quit.