Ah, yes. The dreaded goopy mouth.

I think you can call me by my first name now, seeing as how you’re touching my boob. That puts us a little past formality, don’t you think?

Well, that’s just a waste of perfectly good bourbon if you ask me.

The truth is I’m a chicken shit coward who’s afraid of a girl like you. When I’m with you, I want things I never thought I’d be able to have, or deserved, and that scares...