“You’re really pretty,” he slurs. “Do you have a boyfriend?” Jesus Christ. “Yep.” He exhales sadly. “Damn. He’s really lucky.” I walk him over to his truck and slip my hand in his pocket to grab his keys. He jumps at the contact and spins around, putting his hands up. “Whoa. How will your boyfriend feel about you touching me like that?” Seriously, this is the last time I leave the two of them alone for a few hours. Like, ever. “Hayes, baby,” I say sweetly. “You are my boyfriend.” His eyes light up. “Really? Me?” I nod. “That’s fucking sweet!”
