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Jake and Caleb are pretty boys—perfect jaws, cheekbones for days, the floppy jock hair. All-American athletes. But Mars is…wild. He looks like the toughest guy on a hockey team had sex with a Viking and made a super baby.
“I don’t melt for you, Jake Compton,” she murmurs, holding my gaze. “I burn.”
“But this isn’t just sex for me, Rachel,” Jake adds, his face solemn. “Hell, at this point, I’ll settle for just breathing your air. I’ll rub your feet on the couch after a long day. I’ll do your laundry. I’ll hold your purse while you shop for trail mix. That’s how crazy I am about you. I have to be me, and this is who I am. This is how I feel. Move in and be with me. With us. Whatever that looks like to you, we’ll figure it out. Just give me more than this nothing. I can’t bear another second of the nothing.”
“Three platonic fuck buddies and a hyperactive dog. What could possibly go wrong?”
How’s a guy supposed to compete with a surfing, sun-kissed Edward Cullen?”
He drops his grey sweats to the floor. It’s the only piece of clothing he’s wearing. So now I’m standing with a perfectly naked Jake Compton.
