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they both are the kind of people who listen because they want to hear—not because they’re waiting for their chance to speak.
People are going to ask how we met, Shauna. I got an idea. Why don’t we say we both joined Farmer’s Only? You know, that dating site for farmers. You did it because you really wanted to fuck a man who knows how to rake up straw shirtless, like on those dirty books chicks love to read, and me because I had fantasies of meeting a milk maid with a couple of blond braids. So we arranged to meet, and hell, within five minutes it was obvious neither of us were farmers. You think there are any actual farmers on that site? WTF, Leonard. It’s 3 a.m. on a Thursday.
“Consigliere?” he asks, his expression amused. “Have you been re-watching The Sopranos again?” Short answer, yes.
but there’s something to be said for a person who shows up when they’re needed, how they’re needed.
Nana’s one of the only people who has ever shown me that kind of love—the kind you don’t have to ask for or deserve. The kind that can envelop you and make you feel almost full. So she’s the one who deserves my loyalty.
And no, he doesn’t call me that because of a sex thing.” To be honest, Colter wasn’t great at making me come, but from my experience, the only men who can make it happen every time are made of silicone and come in party colors.
Text conversation with Leonard: Can you grab some Fruit Loops and bring them over when you pick me up? I’ll pay you back. Buy generic. Are you high? Not yet. I’m more of a nighttime smoker, but if you feel like some 420, just say the word. ;-) Fine. Fine, you want to smoke with me? I’ll get you the Fruit Loops, douchebag.
His hair is blond, and his eyes are the sad blue of a baby seal who’s about to see the business end of a club.
