You expect him to be holding a sports biography or a political law text. Instead, he’s holding a bright blue romance novel, thoroughly engrossed in a particularly spicy page. Amused, you accidentally let out a soft, stifled laugh. Dean’s head snaps up. He quickly tries to tilt the book away, but it's too late—you’ve seen it. You give him a knowing, highly amused smirk, raise an eyebrow, and quietly turn around to walk away without saying a single word.