“You could be my number seven.” “Daisy…” He shoots me a look. My stomach twists. “You’re really okay with me fucking another guy?” I imagine him with someone else, and it makes me physically ill. I don’t want him to date another girl, and I know it’s wrong of me to feel that way, but how do I change these emotions? How do I let them go? Maybe he’s right. Maybe we do have to date other people to get over this. “It doesn’t matter what I fucking feel,” he says. “I’m seven years older than you.” “You just turned twenty-five a week and a half ago.” He has literally only been seven years older for
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they're so close to going too far over the line
