Sublime

“I’m lonely, Nova,” he says, his voice cracking down the middle of my thoughts, sucking the air right out of my lungs. It’s the simple honesty of the statement, I think, that hits me the hardest. He’s not trying to hide at all.

“I’m on a first-name basis with women who’ve done far less to me than that. Son of a bitch!” The profanity burst out as he felt Garrett ease the hollow curved needle into his vein.

“You want to hear about how much I have to jack off in the shower thinking about you? What is it, Hazel?”

If Caleb thinks I’m getting hard over Layla’s croissants, he might dropkick me in the nuts.