Try and think of him like you do Edin, my brain suggested, and I almost physically cringed at the idea. I couldn’t. Mainly because I definitely did not want to fuck Edin—I’d seen what he was packing beneath that kilt; there was no way in hell I’d ever let that baseball bat anywhere near me. But when I looked at Moth, I could never decide if I wanted to strangle him or start tearing off his clothes. He was infuriatingly attractive. His face was like a work of art—almost too perfect to be real. Definitely too perfect to be human. Didn’t stop me wanting to punch it, though.
