The Worst Guy (Vital Signs #2)

by Kate Canterbary

I wanted to live in a world of pear-shaped women and wear those thighs as earmuffs every night.

I'd missed the introductions because I was late in getting here—and I'd been running late because I didn't want to come—but

"You know when you're young and you get stupid drunk on something like Jäger or some silly kind of schnapps? And you puke up your skeleton the next day? And forever after that, you can't go near that alcohol because if you even smell it, you'll remember the trauma of vomiting up your entire rib cage?

Peach schnapps. Enough said.

I loved who I was when I was with her.