Seventy
I push the surprisingly open door, a soft sigh escapes me as my feet carry me in the direction of the kitchen so I can wet my parched throat and my arms wrap around me. My heart clenches at the memory that springs up on me when my eyes fleet to the entrance of the kitchen, the image of Brandon standing there in all his handsome glory.
Blocking out his familiar voice, I refuse to succumb to the tingles travelling down my body as he talks dirty to me. He did it only once, after much cajoling but the memory is as vivid as the first day it happened. My hands drop to my sides, I let out a sigh. For someone who claims not to care, I spend a lot of time in my head, thinking only of him.