1642734778_punk-57-pdf

Her breathing calms, but she stays buried in my neck, sounding as if
she’s asleep.
“I wish we would’ve met in grade school,” I say quietly, smiling to
myself. “We would’ve played well together. On the playground, I mean.”
She pulls her head up, and there’s pain in her eyes.
I cup her face in my hands. “I know you,” I tell her. “I know you now.
You wouldn’t have wanted this from anyone else. Because before me, you
had sex once. Two years ago.”
Her eyebrows pinch together, and I can see tears glistening. Yeah, I
remember the letter, babe. You were a mess, feeling ashamed and hurt, and I
wanted to kill the guy.
“Everyone told you to do it, and you did,” I whisper. “He never spoke to
you again, and that’s why you waited for me.”
“I wasn’t waiting for you.”
“You waited for it to feel right,” I bite back, not taking any more of her
shit. “I was jealous when you confided in me about your first time. That
was when I realized I was possessive of you.” I stare straight into her eyes,
never sure about anything this much. “I want everything about you, Ryen,
and I know you want me.”
Her body shakes a little, and I lean in, kissing her on the cheek. “But I
love the way you lie.”