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This felt so shitty—like the opposite of the right thing to do, which made zero sense because I was thinking with my brain right now, and not my dick.
I was exhausted from running away, and somewhere deep inside the back of my mind, I wondered if this boy was the one to anchor me.
I needed to not rock the boat. And spending time with Johnny was as good as capsizing the ship.
Christ, I needed to get the doctors to scan my brain as well as my balls because there was something loose rattling around up there.
“You’re the only thing that distracts me, the only thing I can concentrate on, and I don’t even know you.