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“Ask him if he feels like he might die if he doesn’t get to touch you again.” I frown. “Why would I ask him that?” I whisper. “Because there’s another man who does.” The phone clicks as he hangs up.
“Because I just find your face really . . . punchable.”
“Have you ever been so physically attracted to someone that you lose the ability to think around them?”
“Nobody treats me as bad as you do, Emily!” he yells as he storms toward the door.
Maybe my expectations are too high from my book boyfriends in my romance novels—
“I work hard . . . but I love harder.”
“A misrepresentation of society with unrealistic images that portray a fake lifestyle with impossible ideals,” I reply as I sip my wine. Don’t piss me off, bitch.
It’s just around three in the afternoon. I turn to Aaron. “Wish that damn cheesecake Uber would show up about now.” “Ha, right?” he mutters. “I’ll go make the coffees.” I stand and make my way to the kitchen. I make Aaron’s and then Molly’s, and then as I’m making mine, Jake walks into the kitchen. “Hi, Emily.” “Oh,
