These boys are going to be the death of me. I’ve already got one hockey player in my bed—well, okay, he was in my bed. Now he’s…god, I don’t even know what to call my not-a-relationship with Jake. He’s still texting me. He’s been burning up my phone all day. Random stuff like a picture of his lunch and something he’s calling ‘pelican watch.’ Apparently, a pelican keeps landing on the railing of his deck. That’s it. That’s pelican watch. It lands, and he takes a picture, and sends it to me. So, I have Jake talking me to orgasm through the phone and sending pictures of pelicans. I have Caleb
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