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I couldn’t remember the last time we’d voluntarily touched. Maybe three summers ago, when he’d pushed me, fully clothed, into the pool during a party, and I’d retaliated by “accidentally” elbowing him in the groin?
This is the enemis to lovers that I like
Never ask the universe questions you don’t want answered because it turns out the day could, in fact, get a lot fucking worse.
Then I noticed the glint of metal in her hand. A gun—pointed straight at the scraggly, bearded man in front of her.
A FUCKING ICON
the more her actions baffled and infuriated me. “What if you couldn’t disarm him? What if he had another weapon you didn’t know about? You could’ve fucking died!”
You sound like Rhys, but with more swear words
The list of things I’d rather do besides go on a weekend trip with my ex-best friend and the redheaded menace included, but was not limited to, feeding my hand through a woodchipper, eating a pound of raw maggots, and watching Glitter on repeat with my eyes taped open.
the whole couple thing sounded exhausting. Constant dates, phone calls, checking in with the other person… I shuddered at the thought.
It does feel like that huh
“Here’s a tip. She loves when people compare her to Jessica Rabbit. Tell her how much you’ve always wanted to bang a real-life JR and you’re in. Bonus points if you call her JR. It’s her favorite nickname.”
Fucker
