Chloe Liese

Sometimes I wish I heard nothing at all, so I wouldn’t constantly be reminded of everything I didn’t.

The irony is not lost on me, that he’s the first man who’s ever truly made me feel heard in my life and he can’t hear a word I’m saying.

It’s like weird IT soft porn, watching the way the laptop slips out of his bag, how Ryder’s hands curl around the screen as he sets it upright.

“Luke the Duke of Douchery.” I reach up and pinch his nipple, making him yelp and step back. “What brings you here, polluting the atmosphere with your existence?”

I need to get laid. This is not right. I’m eroticizing hand-drying.

That woman, Frankie,” he says. “It’s you.”

I know we talk about a lot of different books, but I get the feeling romance is your favorite genre.
Am I right

Which, hello, with me, that’s how you hop in the fast lane on the expressway to friendship: talk to me about books

“Because I saw them at the grocery store after work today and thought of you and bought them.

Panicking, I set my hands on my lap and discreetly play the song’s chord progression, like my thighs are piano keys.
It’s a soothing movement that always calms me.