When I close my eyes, I see Beau. I smell Beau. I taste Beau. I hear Beau. I feel Beau’s hands touching me like I’m his for real. I feel his cock hard for me. My brain is all Beau, all the time. I feel like I’ve got a song stuck on repeat. One I can’t get out of my head. My brain keeps missing the memo that this thing between Beau and me is fake. It’s cute how I thought getting out of bartender mode to fall asleep was hard.
