It’s only a matter of time before she admits it to another guy and he wants to help her out, too. My head falls back onto the pillow and I let out a low groan. The thought of sharing her makes my jaw clench. I like Pippa, and not just because I want to fuck her. I like talking to her, I like hanging out with her, and I like living with her. She makes those cupcakes for me. She’s funny, sweet, and beautiful. We’re friends, I think. I don’t want her to bake cupcakes for another guy, or sing in the shower while he listens outside the door. My head spins, and I realize I’m drunk. I haven’t been
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