Jasmine.
It was just one summer…
A summer I still can’t scrub from my mind, no matter how many times I swear I should.
If the memories ever start to fade, I drag them back on purpose, replay every second, every breath, every filthy thought, because I know I’d live it all again in a heartbeat.
I wasn’t supposed to fall for my best friend’s older brother.
He was thirty-five, a full-grown man with a surgeon’s steady hands and a jawline that could cut glass.
To him I was still the little girl who used to braid Lila’s hair and beg for sleepovers.
But I wasn’t little anymore.
I was twenty now, and the crush that started innocently at sixteen had twisted into something dark, aching, and soaked.
My p***y and my body had formed an alliance against every shred of good sense I had left.
