From here I get my first proper look at Skylar. I get to really look at her, and there might as well be a bronc’s hoofprint on my chest judging by the way air struggles to reach my lungs. Her cheeks are a little flushed, plump lips painted a stunning shade of pink that, on someone else, might look ridiculous, but on Skylar, it’s perfectly balanced with the sweetness of her pastel hair and hot as fuck silver ring in the center of her nose. A septum piercing, as I was informed by Brad, mid eye-roll, when I fumbled around completely tongue tied seeing her with it for the first time last year.
