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Vixen to Villain

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L. Tomkinson

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“If you don't relax and start reading, I'll have to begin narrating out loud. And fair warning, I do voices. And accents." He clears his throat dramatically and looks down at his book before reciting in a thick Scottish brogue. ""I don' wan'a cup'a tea' McNally told the told widow. 'I wan'a see Cormack.' 'I told ye,' she replied. 'Cormack don' wan'a see ye. Ye'll hav'te wait till-'" Ward stop butchering what should have been an enchanting accent the moment I snap my book open. "You should see your face right now," he says, grinning. "But come on, I wasn't that bad." I beg to differ. I feel like my ears are bleeding.”

“Ella watched as he dismounted that bike, pretty sure those jeans had been painted on. Dear Lord that was a delicious hind view. "Stop it, you’re not supposed to objectify new people." She knew it was a man because that black t-shirt showcased tanned skin and work earned muscles. He had turned around, his profile to her, and she watched that helmet come off, sunlight bouncing off the visor briefly. "I’m gonna objectify the shit out of that." Ella would freely admit she was a jackhole.”

“What’s not to love? I made friends with a pretty girl and now we get to plan a castle break in. This beats the day to day kill, eat and survive.”

“Ah, like how Sharon Parker’s bra kind of found its way into your locker?” He leaned in, resting his elbows on the table. “Are you going to constantly bring these things up the entire time we’re dating?” “Sorry. Just using my prior knowledge to try and gauge what kind of fake boyfriend you’re going to make.” “Well, if your bitterness is any indication of the kind of fake girlfriend you’re going to be, I won’t hold my breath for you to fake put out.”

“Sadly for you, I think I'm going to live, Simi. You can stop slapping me now. I've already lost enough sense. Can't afford to lose any more brain cells. I really really need my last three before I forget how to spell my name. It's hard enough to pronounce." Nick "well, poo. Not poo that you'll live, 'cause the Simi would probably miss you if you died, but poo that I'll miss all that good old salty boy meat. Though we needs be fatting you up some to make you really good eats. Hmmm." Simi”