Adam is right…
But he is also wrong.
With newfound courage and determination, possibly coming from my raging hormones and the cry of my v****a that was really hoping all those cobwebs would be removed, I tell Adam just that.
“No.” It comes out less strong and assertive and more like a strangled moan.
“Lily.” Adam takes a deep breath and gently shakes his head. He reaches to touch my face but stops before his fingers caress my burning skin.
OK, no. This is not how this works.
“Oh really? And how does this work?” An amused smirk plays on Adam’s swollen lips and I realise I have once more voiced my thoughts. Well, screw this. It’s not like I’m wrong. He is wrong. This is by no means a mistake. We are two consenting adults that… like each other? Oh God, what if his beer goggles are gone
