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I must have a disorder. Asshole Arousal Disorder where I’m only interested in men who ignore me.
“Seems like I’m easily defeated by pompous men in suits who don’t listen to me,”
“Still trying to buy me out?” I pant. “At this rate, I’ll give you the damn company.”
I need to bite the bullet and tell Tristan. I’ll make him understand that it’s serious, that it’s not like the other flings. I know now it’s not.
But giving up Charlie now? It’s not an option. I realise that now, as she sleeps in my lap, her long brown hair draped over my knees. Even the thought of losing her sears me with pain.
“I’m wiping the slate clean. I love you, Charlie. I’ve never loved anyone like this before. I want you to be my girlfriend; I want you to be my last girlfriend.
