Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen, #5)

by Chloe Walsh

There was only one person in my life that still saw me as, well, me. Only one person who refused to let go of the version of me from the past. The girl with her arms around me. My girl.

crying.

If I could sew this girl to my skin without causing her an ounce of harm, then I would do it in a heartbeat. That’s how vital she was to my life. How essential she was to my existence.

Because I cared about the girl. I cared to the point where she distracted my day. I cared when her cat was sick. I cared when she cried. I cared when her mam ran out of her favorite brand of cereal, and she had to eat porridge. I cared so fucking much it was hard to find where she started and I ended. I knew her favorite song every year since August 7, 1989. I knew her secrets, her little habits, and traits that nobody else noticed. I wanted to waste my time on her. All of my time. All of the time.