He growled at his own scratchy handwriting. The frame shook as she shifted behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to know she was propped up on one elbow, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. This was her trademark look. The when will you get it through your thick skull that I can teach you this shit l...
Not without flashing my panties or possibly knocking into something I’m not supposed to touch. I’m not supposed to touch any of this. Not the bike. Not him. I don’t even know his name. Not that it matters. We aren’t going to be friends. He isn’t going to ask about my day and rub my feet. He’s goi...
