Bitter. Broken. Explosive.
He should’ve known he was in trouble the moment he heard that sweet laugh. Normally, something that sweet would’ve annoyed his bitter ass. Instead, he was drawn to it—to her—like he hadn’t been drawn to anything in too long.
He should’ve run the moment he found out she was just eighteen. Normally, he steered clear of girls that young and their drama. Instead, he succumbed to the unrelenting draw.
He should’ve been relieved when she admitted she was in no way ready for anything exclusive and serious. Normally, he’d be all for that. Instead, the thought of her not being exclusively his infuriated him.
Except nothing was normal about how alarmingly fast she’d brought him to his knees. In all his twenty-five years, not a single girl had ever done that.
Not Even Close.
But she’s still just eighteen and she still isn’t exclusively his. With his past making him so cynical it’s not a matter of if he’ll eventually blow but how badly.