A Touch of Crazy
I had a crush on a guy.
Although, was it a crush when you were over twenty-five?
Okay, over thirty.
What-the-f**k-ever. Age was just a number, right?
In my defense, I could definitely pass for twenty-four. Maybe twenty-four-year-olds had crushes.
The question remained: could a grown-ass woman’s feelings still be categorized as a crush?
What I was experiencing was more of a strong liking with a dash of “f**k, yes, you’re hot. I’d do you.”
So…lustful liking?
Sounded better in my head than “crush.”
There was also the issue of my occupation. I hunted and killed monsters for a living. Assassin of fiendish creatures, that was me. If it got out that I had a “crush” on a “boy,” none of the monsters would respect me.
That would make my job three to seven times harder, de
