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Thirty or forty years ago, I wouldn’t have stared at the girl in front of me for more than five seconds before charming her into going to bed with me.
But this girl ... this girl was different.
“I think that’s everything,” Nadine said, stepping out of the cottage as Rok flew from the roof.
It was early January. The lights around the cottage reflected off the three feet of snow and illuminated Nadine’s long brown hair, tinting some strands bronze. Her hair, her dark green eyes, and her red lips contrasted with her fair skin; the only thought on my mind was that I had never seen a more beautiful girl in my entire life. And I had been alive for quite some time.
Nadine approached me, and as it was every time she looked at me, I fought the urge to reach to her, to pull her against me, to
