"I don't want to be the guy who says this at a party," Sam whispered, stepping into her space until she could smell the mint he’d chewed to hide the beer. "But I think I’ve been in love with you since tenth-grade geometry. And I’m tired of pretending I’m not."
When he kissed her, it tasted like salt and bad decisions and the terrifying, beautiful realization that Monday morning was going to be very, very complicated. But for now, with the bass shaking the walls and the watermelon vodka humming in their veins, they were the only two people who existed. drunk teen sex
Maya’s heart did a slow, heavy roll in her chest. The buzz didn't disappear, but it shifted, turning from dizzy to electric. "It was a fern, Sam. And it’s a very good listener." "I don't want to be the guy who