![]() ![]() “It shouldn’t be like that though,” I argue. ![]() ![]() ![]() “Like, being in love is fucking amazing, but the tradeoff is that you constantly have to live with this gnawing worry in your stomach that it’s going to fall apart at any second.” “Isn’t that part of the deal, babe?” he asks. “I’m terrified he’s going to break my heart,” I confess. I bite my lip and stare into the dark depths of my coffee mug. “Um, you could not keep from falling in love with him,” he suggests. “He’s gorgeous and fantastic in bed and supportive of my dreams how am I supposed to keep from falling in love with him?” “And he likes baseball, he took me to a game last week and fed me overpriced snacks and then made out with me on the kiss cam like he had no fucking hang-ups about public affection or anything.” “We have different schedules, which is doom for a relationship,” I clarify. “Wow, that sounds like a nightmare,” my best friend says sarcastically. “He gets up at like five o’clock every morning, and he usually wakes me up with a blowjob or this fucking sexy, lazy, half asleep dry humping that’s just…ungh.” More than I ever wanted things to work with Henry, and I planned to marry that mother fucker. I snort a laugh and shake my head, my chest aching a little with how fucking much I actually do want things to work with Cole. “It’s not because he’s eating your shoes, is it?” “Why not?” He blinks in surprise, looking concerned. “It’s never going to work,” I answer dryly. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |