Half Wild, Half Yours
“I wouldn’t mind a few Little Blues running around.”
I shook my head and eased into the next stretch of road. “Slow down, Romeo. We’re only supposed to be a summer fling.”
He sighed theatrically. “Sure feels like forever, though.”
Before the desert could roll into city limits, we backtracked—covering things we’d skipped straight past in our whirlwind romance.
“Favorite colors?” I asked, glancing at him.
“Blue, obviously,” he said, lifting his shirt hem to show where I’d painted his nails last night. “But before you, it was moss green—like the hills back home.”
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