“Howdy,” he says. “How goes it?” I look around to make sure nobody’s listening. “Half mast,” I whisper. “But pretend I never said that.” He smiles so large, his blue eyes crinkle. I can’t process how badly I want to push him up against the wall and kiss him, touch him, explore him again. Why does he have to look so hot all the time? Why can’t he just save it for me, or something? “How are you feeling?” I ask him. “Honestly? I want to hook up again, but pretend I never said that, too.”
