She whispers softly, “Did you bring my birth control?” Her eyes flit to my brother for a second, but his back is turned to us. I try not to worry about him right now. “You willing to gain five fucking pounds by taking it now?” I ask her in the same hushed voice. She nods, and her breath shallows. She’s not wearing a bra—she rarely does—but her nipples harden, visible with the form-fitting top.
MY GIRL ISN'T PLAYING OMG.
