Raylan smells nice—not like expensive cologne like Josh. Just like soap and laundry detergent and clean cotton. There’s something natural about him that I like. He doesn’t put product in his hair—it’s soft and messy. He rarely shaves, and he’s got calluses on his hands. But all that seems exotic to me, compared to the tanned and coiffed men I usually date. Raylan is masculine in a different way—by not giving a damn about his clothes or his car or his social status.
