“Lola, this is a bad fuckin’ idea,” he says in a quiet whisper, so quiet that if my ears weren’t hyperfocused on everything he’s doing, I wouldn’t hear it. “I know,” I say, because I do. This might be the worst idea ever. Ben kissing me when he’s frustrated with me is one thing. Kissing me as punishment is one thing. Letting him kiss me because my adrenaline is too high and I need to forget the world is one thing. Letting Ben take this further in his bed, in the dead of night, while he whispers against my lips and just danced with me to old records and told me about his mother and got in bed
...more
