He’s unbearable, yet his d**k has a way of making me addicted.
••••••••••
It had been two weeks since I moved into my new apartment, yet the books were still piled everywhere.
I had planned to organize them today, but every time I looked at the mess, I froze.
My day off was supposed to be mine, but now it already felt ruined.
The books reminded me of the life I had before I started sleeping with strangers.
Reading had once been my escape, my quiet rebellion.
Now, it felt like a reminder of everything I had left behind.
I leaned over one of the taller stacks, considering where to start.
Each book had meaning.
Some I had read over and over, others I had barely touched, kept only for the memories attached to them.
My phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jean shorts.
I pulled it o
