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377 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 24, 2022
[…] staying up half the night screwing this redhead I met on Tinder. Can’t for the life of me remember her name, so we’ll go with Red. […]
Red: Hey ;)
What the hell does she want?
Me: Hi.
Red: How was your day?
Me: Fan-fucking-tastic.
Red: Oh, nice. Mine was good too.
Didn’t ask, but okay.
Red: So, did you want to hang out maybe? :)
Me: Nah, busy. Sorry.
Red: Oh, okay. Maybe another time.
Maybe not.
I need to stop giving Tinder bitches my phone number.
She’d be hot as fuck [his professor who’s annoyed with him being late to class] if she wasn’t acting like such a bitch. She has on this tight ass pencil skirt that goes below her knees, with a slit in the back, an equally tight white button-up shirt that does amazing things for her tits, and her hair is up in a sexy as fuck librarian bun. Oh, and she has on glasses too.
Professor Panty Wad starts speaking to the class again. […] I see her eyes roll behind her fuck-me glasses.
Love isn’t black and white, it doesn’t fit inside a box, and it won’t always make sense to everyone.
He’s crawled under my skin in the most sordid way, and I can’t cleanse myself of him, no matter how much I try. He’s an itch I can’t fucking scratch. A habit I can’t kick. I think about him more than I don’t, and at this point, it’s downright obsessive.
He is a beautiful, broken disaster, and there is nothing I want more in this moment than him. Every toxic, messy, angry piece of him. I don’t understand it, and I probably never will, but his eyes tell me he needs me just as much as I need him.
“Plus, if I remember correctly, you definitely kissed me back. I’m honored that I left such a memorable impression on you that you still think about it years later, though.”
Passing him the nearly finished joint, he takes it, glowering at me. “I don’t fucking think about it.”
“Obviously, you do.”
“Fuck you.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Finny,” I say with a wink, and his nostrils flare in response.
God, he’s fun to fuck with.Me: Okay, see you there.
Me: Still doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still fucking hate you.
JT: Sure, bud. Leave the grumpy pants at home.
Me: Fuck off.
Aston is the first one to speak. “Alright, peace, Finny. See you around.”
“Fuck off, JT,” I growl, continuing my walk past the dorms in the direction of my place.
Hearing nothing but his fucking chuckle behind me, I roll my eyes and pick up the pace. He always seems so unbothered, completely unaffected by me, and it pisses me off more.
He’s home. A home I never knew I needed. A home where I belong, where I’m loved for exactly who I am, and nothing less.
“I cannot-fucking cannot-live without you again. These last few months have been agonizing. You’ve become my everything in such a short amount of time. You’ve shown me what unconditional love feels like when I never thought I’d get that. Never thought I deserved it. You gave it to me anyway. You saw past my moody, angry persona, and latched onto my soul. You’re who I want more than anything. You’re my fucking future. My person. My fucking lobster, dude.”