Left of Forever (Spunes, OR, #2)

by Tarah DeWitt

I had the day to dick around, and I overdicked it.

One dumb man can do a lot. I think if one dumb man can start the thing, one certainly can make a difference in stopping it.

There’s a void where you lived in me.

“All I know is that if I found out heaven was real and got there first? I’d hang back in the waiting room and save you a seat.”

She’s kissing me. Her lips are on mine after five long years. Five hundred years. She’s kissing me. I’m home.

I have genuine butterflies when I finally lie down to go to sleep. But … they’re heavier than butterflies, with different wingspans and speeds. More like birds.

I’ve known you my whole damn life, and you still surprise me.

“Wren, I can still taste you in my mustache. I can’t think of a single person on the planet to be jealous of right now.”