“You only need to press it once,” Troy says from my shoulder. “Shut up.” “Pressing it again does nothing—” “Oh my god, you have to shut up,” I cry as the doors slide shut. “Please, for once, just fucking shut up so I can hear myself fucking think!” “God, you’re a mess,” he mutters. “I think this leave of absence is coming at just the right time for you.” I spin around, taking him in. He’s always been handsome—dark eyes, chiseled cheek bones for days. He oozes wealth and sophistication. At 6’2”, he’s a big guy too.
