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I want to take her hoht and fuck her brains out I think it would be good for her during this tireat sex distracts

But India has her oay of dealing with things I have to give her room and accept her for what she is

I listen to the s her parents like – an odd assortment of music from the seventies that I would never have heard if I didn’t know her My father was into country music, and I listened to metal most of my life

One song plays on the playlist by Cat Stevens, “How Can I Tell You” It seems like a metaphor for our relationship

I'ets et it out of my head For the rest of the day, it plays over into sleep

I want India in my bed I want to fuck her brains out It's only a matter of time before she comes around and asks me

Friday coiven in to her desires and asked me to fuck her brains out

She does, however, come into my office Friday afternoon

"I' to Marina's party tomorrow"

"That's good," I say, hoping it's a sign that she's feeling better about her eneral "Maybe you can come by to my place after I miss you"

She doesn’t say anything "Marina thinks you're co as well"

I nod "Oh, yeah I did say I'd coh," I say with a frown "I'll have to tell her no"

"She wants to match me with someone neell," India says, her voice soft "I was thinking we should play along with her Humor her"

I glance at her, focusing on her eyes "What? You really want to meet her match for you? You want me to meet her match for me?"

India shrugs "I don't really want to, but I promised I would before this happened between us Since we're keeping it quiet—"