“But this isn’t, like, a thing. I don’t need some kid with mommy issues obsessing about my feelings, okay?” Cassie’s eyes flashed. Back to anger. Good. That was easier to deal with. “Are you fucking kidding me?” “You obviously don’t have a good relationship with your mother. It makes sense you’d be drawn to some sort of mother figure. I don’t—” “I don’t want you to be my mom. I want to fuck you.” Jesus. The way Cassie didn’t just know what she wanted, but owned it. Erin had to go through six months of therapy before she even mentioned the word divorce.
