“You know we’re screwed, right?” “I don’t know. We survived a hug without tearing each other’s clothes off.” He looks at me skeptically. “Just because we’re at a cemetery and I just got done talking to my dead mom. Change the location and I would’ve been bent over the hood.” Heat rushes to my groin. I lean back in the seat as the most vivid images assault my mind. “We should probably talk about something else.”
