It’s funny how one life-changing event could make you forget what happiness felt like.
—Christie Cote
He wasn’t kissing me like I was going to break; he was kissing me like he thought he would break without this kiss.
Kyle must have seen my panic, because when I looked up at him again, his jacket and shirt were off and he was handing me his shirt. The sight of him with no shirt on...
Well, I see you won. The fruit won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe the apples. Those look like they need some more killing.
I was about to sit down when Kyle’s hand wrapped around my left wrist lightly and pulled up my arm. The suddenness of his touch was startling. I looked at him, confused, and saw fire...
I live across the street,” he told me; and, without another word, he turned around toward his house. Then I realized what he’d meant. I’d told my problems to a stranger I would probably see...
I’m not fragile,” I teased and kissed him harder. I supposed my bruise would say otherwise, but I didn’t want to be treated like I was going to shatter if someone touched me.
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