Experience had taught me that there were a few types of silence. Embarrassed silence. Intense silence. Sexy silence. Mysterious silence. Sorry-I-fucked-your-wife-she-said-you-were-cool-with-it silence. Jesse and I had settled into a new type—companionable silence. It felt like her variation of small talk, and sat between us like your favorite uncle who always made great fart jokes.
i never want this book to end. the end.
