HIS MINI BEAR
Quinn huffed suddenly, tossing the now-empty Cheetos bag onto the coffee table.
She crossed her arms and glared at me like I had personally offended her.
"You want good boys," she continued, exasperated, "and I want bad boys. But somehow, the universe decided to swap that shit. Fucking hell."
Quinn clicked her tongue, watching me closely.
Then, with the kind of casual recklessness only she could pull off, she leaned back and stretched.
"I also want some stress relief," she announced, like she was contemplating ordering a pizza. "Maybe I’ll go to one of my ex’s places."
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