Chapter Twenty-Eight ~ Zoey
Gabe’s perception of my fears, and absolute ability to put me at ease, had me thinking that he was definitely not real. No one could be that perfect, or rather, that perfect for me.
He must have a weird tick I hadn’t noticed yet.
Or the inability to appreciate eighties music.
Maybe he hated puppies and kittens.
Or thought Eminem was overrated.
I didn’t know what his flaw was yet, but it was bound to come out sooner or later.
I just hoped it was something I could live with. A weird tick would be okay, all of the others would be deal breakers.
I’d spent the morning catching up on emails and social media, working on edits from my publisher, and even got a chapter in on my indulgent work in progress.
I reached for another Red Vine and gasped when I realized
