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Buy a man flowers, at least. Or hell, lead off with a good joke. But it is what it is, I suppose.
Which is even more reason to get the hell out of here before I catch feelings. Because Conor Edwards is absolutely the guy you fall for before you learn that girls like me don’t get guys like him.
“Babe, you’ve got the kind of body that boys build in their heads under the sheets after dark.”
“You’re ridiculously attractive, Taylor.” This time when he speaks, I don’t doubt his sincerity, if perhaps his sanity. I suppose someone like him doesn’t get around so much by being picky. “Don’t spend any more time believing otherwise.”
I truly believe that all body types are beautiful. It’s only when I look in the mirror that I forget.
He laughs while we both discreetly rub our eyes and make other manly guttural noises that are absolutely not crying.