No Prince

by Stevie J. Cole

“You’re really not bad, Zepp.” Her gaze fell to my mouth, and fingers brushed my jaw. Then she pressed her lips to my cheek—To. My. Cheek—before she turned away, heading back down the path to the trailer park.

“Sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation. We’re…” Her brow tightened. “Friends. I guess.” No the hell she was not trying to pull that friend bullshit with me. Whatever this was between us, it sure as hell wasn’t friends. I snorted. “Sure, Monroe. Friends.”