“Told that backward-hat-wearing motherfucker that I loved him. I proclaimed it to all the cars in the parking lot. I love Reid Knightly, and then he told me I didn’t. Which, God”—I turn to Harper—“isn’t it so wonderful when men tell you how you’re supposed to feel? There’s nothing better than a human with a dick coming up to you and saying, That’s not how you feel, peasant woman.” I pat my chest. “Really makes your nipples hard, doesn’t it?”
