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The last piece of advice my mom gave me before she died was to never give up on love.
Love this
Me and Garrett can handle our own in a fight, but if you want some bone-crushing, we can unleash Logan on him.”
“Sure you are. Seriously, just find yourself a rebound.” Dean whips up his arm. “I volunteer as tribute.”
Not only did I seduce him, but I tied him up and rode him like he was my own personal amusement park ride.
The one and only time I demanded money from my dad, he turned around and donated my entire college fund to a charity for underprivileged kids. Then he made me clerk at his firm for the whole summer to earn it all back.
I think it takes a certain level of trust to sit next to someone and not feel the pressing urge to babble away. My dad once told me that the way a person responds to silence reveals a lot about them.
The guy has the attention span of a fruit fly, and the affection-giving habits of a puppy, offering his sexual devotion to whoever happens to be holding the treat. By which I mean the vagina.
“The only one of Logan’s crazy acronyms I live my life by—STAG.” His mouth stretches in a broad smile. “Stand there and grind.”
I sigh and turn to Dean, who’s clearly trying not to laugh. “And now it’s time for bed. Say good night to your friend Beau, sweetie.”
You’re lucky I love you, babe. If any other girl had done this to me—” “You love me?” I blurt out.
Life hack: if you don’t want someone asking you questions, say the word tampon and the conversation ends.
