Chloe Liese

Sometimes I wish I heard nothing at all, so I wouldn’t constantly be reminded of everything I didn’t.

The irony is not lost on me, that he’s the first man who’s ever truly made me feel heard in my life and he can’t hear a word I’m saying.

It’s like weird IT soft porn, watching the way the laptop slips out of his bag, how Ryder’s hands curl around the screen as he sets it upright.

“Luke the Duke of Douchery.” I reach up and pinch his nipple, making him yelp and step back. “What brings you here, polluting the atmosphere with your existence?”

I need to get laid. This is not right. I’m eroticizing hand-drying.

That woman, Frankie,” he says. “It’s you.”

“Eyes up, Gabriella.”
“I’m watching that utility knife.”
“Sure you are.”

Someone so evil should not be this hot. I can’t believe I had a sex dream about him. I want to bleach the memory from my brain.

“He’s so hot.”
I throw Eli a death glare. “What would Luke say?”
“Luke would say I have eyeballs. I said he’s hot, not that I want to bang him.”

“You have candy in your vehicle.” A shiver wracks me. My teeth start to chatter. “You eat s-sugar? And enjoy it?”
“I’m a man of many mysteries, Gabriella. Help yourself.”