Eden Finley

“I like butts.”
“Of course you do.” I don’t even know why, but my gaze lowers to Whit’s ass as he walks in front of me.
Ah, hockey butt. I miss mine.
My ass used to be my best feature. Now I’m just an ass in general.

He nonstop tells me how picky I am, but I can’t tell him the truth. Which is that every guy has one huge flaw: they’re not him.

He bought me breakfast this morning.”
“Well, wait, because that never lasts long.” She’s too young and pretty—messy hair not withstanding—to be bitter.
“I’m sorry again,” I say. “Men are all sucky.”
I’m not lying. Whit and I have definitely been getting sucky, just not in the way she’s thinking.