This is the summer , Belly thought, where every choice is a wound.
“That’s the problem, Belly,” he said. “I never have to pretend with you. And that’s exactly why I can’t be near you right now.” book 3 the summer i turned pretty
He stepped closer. Close enough that she could smell his sweatshirt—salt, cedar, something underneath that was just Conrad . His hand hovered near her arm but didn’t touch. This is the summer , Belly thought, where