Time of Your Life (Time of Your Life #1)

by Jessa Hastings

I like to be comfortable. And if I have to be uncomfortable, I want it to be for a reason. I don’t much love to be sweaty, but I’ll get hot to go brown. Similarly, I certainly don’t love being cold, but if it’s snowing, it’s pretty enough to be worth it—do you know what I mean? Uncomfortable things have to be worth it, worth whatever discomfort they bring you, otherwise they’re just…uncomfortable for no reason.

I swear to god for the past minute and a half, that man’s gaze was the thing that was anchoring me to the planet. Gravity.

“Like, what the fuck was I doin’ till now?” I shrug it off. “Who the fuck was I singin’ about?”

Her lips part in surprise as mine smash into hers again. Don’t even know why we stopped in the first place. Happy to be back. Ain’t gonna make that mistake again.

I don’t love it when men drink, actually. Don’t care when I drink—I know that’s a double standard, but I don’t care. I like my men strong and in control and sound of mind.

I swear to god, it’s fucking weird to be loved the way she loves me. To love her back the same way… To be relieved when I’ve got her in my arms—? Didn’t know I wasn’t relieved before until I’ve got her now, and then it’s like—fuck. Everythin’ feels proper good, you know?

I’m just…lost in her—willingly too, recklessly, fuckin’ happily lost. Don’t matter where if she’s there, know what I mean?

Breathing him in is like taking in a breath near a fire—it makes you warm.