What the fuck? What was she doing to me? Where was my head? I’d rolled through the past two years, watching her from a distance, knowing that she would be my heroin and knowing that my obsession was a no-win situation when I got to her again. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to keep playing games with her. But I wanted to keep her fourteen forever, too. Young and beautiful and innocent and the one place in my life that wasn’t dirty. She wasn’t fourteen anymore, though. She was growing into something men would want. Something I wanted.
