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“He’s not worth it, Joe.” No, but she is.
“I’m not afraid of loving a boy,” I told her honestly. “I’m afraid of losing myself in one.”
“Make sure you do.” She laughed. “Because I’ve put an awful lot of effort into saving you, six.”
“Don’t you ever touch her like that again, do ya hear me?” “Or what?” “Or I’ll put you in a body bag.”
“I’m not pressuring you to spread your legs for me.” Rearing back, he made a point of glancing between us. “You did that all by yourself.”
I couldn’t look at her when she was with him. I couldn’t fucking bear it.
He wasn’t violent by nature. He was violent because he wasn’t nurtured at home.
She blew out a shaky breath and nodded. “Oh, I’ve been sold on you for a long time now, Joey Lynch.”
“The quintessential lost boy.” Her lips grazed mine as she spoke. “Don’t worry, Peter Pan, I’ll be your Wendy.”
“Because the only time that I allow myself to feel anything is when I’m with you.”
“Hey, Joe, do you think I’m dramatic?” “Only when you’re awake.”
If the hurling ever failed Joey Lynch, he would make a mighty fine porn star. The boy certainly fucked like one.