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seems I’ve passed on being his daughter, too.
Eww we hate her dad, got it.
“Paisley, baby, get off the phone. I’m done sharing you.” I swallow. Hard. Did Paisley baby get off the phone I’m done sharing you just become my favorite ten words in the English language? Yes, but I’ll never admit it out loud.
“Last week we had an order for a dozen black roses. The card read, Fuck you both, you deserve each other. The delivery address was to a fancy hotel.”
LOL
The mention of his father rolls easily off Rosemary’s tongue, but Klein, seated beside me on the sofa, flinches.
What happened to his dad?
I pivot, and Klein matches me step for step. Halfway to my door, I feel a press against my lower back. A guiding palm I don’t need, but… Oh. I want it. I like it.
“Get used to me being a gentleman, Paisley.” “Let me guess. That’s how your mother raised you to behave?” “Yes, but also because you deserve to be treated that way.”
DAMN
“I have. And I don’t think it’s likely to happen.
Big dumb. This is exactly what is going to happen.
If I filled out the story, gave it sinew and marrow and muscle, she wouldn’t find it sweet. And though I have no intention of doing so, in my chest is an odd ache to tell her.
DO IT FOR ME KLEIN
“When we get back here tonight, I am going to fuck you so well, so good, I’ll have to clamp my hand over your mouth to keep everybody from hearing your screams.”
YUM
“We had something back then, Paisley, and we have something today, and that tells me we’ll have something in twenty years. In forty. In fifty. We are evergreen.”
