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“Uh…hello? You still there, fucker?” Cap’s voice is a shock to ister what he’s saying I thule for the volume up button until the voices on the TV are unmistakably clear

This…the rest of this…I cannot miss

“Raquel’s team couldn’t be reached for comment, but an inside source believes the actress to be about four ”

Whaaaaaaat? Four ?!

I count back the months in my head

Noveust…

August fucking fifteenth, to be exact

Like a NASCAR driver hitting the gas on the green flag, ht that happened exactly four o

My lips on hers

Her hands sliding into the waistband of my jeans

Her perfectly beautiful violet-colored eyes as I slipped inside her

I s hard

The last time I saw her—or talked to her, for that o, and now, Raquel…nant?

And she’s fucking famous?

Jesus Christ Could I be any ht now?

Apparently, disdain for television being drilled into your head at an early age is good for business but not so good for your personal life…

Holy Fucking Shit This can’t be real

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears the odds are ever in your favor, you no-condo idiot…

My heart pounds in my throat, and my breaths come out in erratic pants

I feel railroaded Like ato work his way upstreaainst a tsunami-like current

“Dude, why are you breathing so heavy?” Cap, the fucker, he just won’t go away “Are you getting a oddamn phone with me?”