Make Me Sin (Bad Habit, #2)

by J.T. Geissinger

My central nervous system decides it’s a circus. Acrobats catapult through my intestines. Clowns on pogo sticks bounce around in my brain. A chimpanzee twirls a baton and rides

unicycle back and forth inside my heart, and a strongman tightens a pair of bulging biceps around my throat, squeezing off all my air. I am paralyzed by the clamor of activity, and stare stupidly at A.J. as if he has just arrived from outer space.

I whisper his name. It’s like fitting a key into a lock; it releases all the emotion he’s been holding back.

Because everything I never knew I needed is right there, staring back at me.