Crushed.
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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación dom, ene 14, 2018
''So you admit you like me right?" he asks, smirking simultaneously. "What? No!" I blurt out, clearly embarrassed. I can feel my cheeks getting warmer each millisecond. "Oh, come on! We all know you like me." he comments. "Never have, never will!" I say very clearly, making sure he heard every syllable. "Suit yourself." With that, he walks through to the bathroom, probably looking for his wallet or something. A moment later, I hear him groan and yell in pain. "Arghh. Shit!" "What have you done now?" I say, walking through from the main dorm area. I giggle as I lay my eyes on the rough, tough, football player machine that is doubled over with pain on our bathrom floor, clutching his slightly swollen left pinky toe. "Klutz." I laugh as I walk away. Before I turn to head to the canteen though, I can't help but glance back at him, rolling around on the floor. I can't believe he's defeated by a stubbed toe. 'Idiot.' I think to myself as I hop out the door, eager for a nice, warm meal. Ashley Noble started college with a guy roommate;Christopher Hewson. He had a girlfriend and she had a developing crush. On him.They annoyed the hell out of each other but deep down, they loved each other dearly. What will happen if Ashley gets a boyfriend? What about if secrets are exposed? Who will get Crushed?
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She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. *** Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. She lies when she's scared, smiles when she's breaking, and keeps everyone away with her endless sarcasm and sharp tongue. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. The boy with the bad reputation, a past no one talks about, and a temper that makes people flinch. He wants nothing to do with drama, especially when it wears red lipstick and calls him names. They can't stand each other. So why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should? ~~~~~~ He kisses me, again and again, raw and consuming, and then pulls away; I can feel his green eyes piercing my soul. "What you told me last time, say it again," he whimpers breathlessly. "What?" I manage to ask, confused, and reel him in again for another kiss. He pulls back again, his breath hot against my skin. "That you hate me, tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I tell him almost instantly, the lie burning on my tongue. He kisses me harder and more hungrily, and the words slip out again from my tongue: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His murmurs deepen into groans, and at this exact moment, I ask myself how I'm still standing, still breathing, still present. ~~~~~~

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