I'd probably be playing around with other girls' minds, bodies, and hearts. Then pull my great disappearing act, hoping I never run into them again. I'd be a grade A smooth talker, also known as, a player, manwhore, douche, and pretty much anything other word created that I could degrade myself with. -> The emotions. Gah. Exquisit.
But every time I tried to move on, it just made me want to go back to her more. Some part of me still believed that even though she could find better and do better with out me, I was the one that was meant to hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay. She was the one that was designed to fit in this bed with me. We put the us in jealous, etcetera, etcetera. -> I know someone who feels like that. He could have said that. Excellent, moomoo.
"I'm awkward," he started and poked my chest. "You're just stupid," I rolled my eyes and stood to walk him out. -> That’s why we love Hat Rack.
/"Ya gonna give 'em to her or are you saving them for ya'lls wedding?" I blinked myself back to earth and held out the flowers.
+
"And remember, no glove, no love," Travis paused for a second, "well...maybe it's too late for that." Patrick punched him in the arm and rolled his eyes./ -> Those lines make me want to pay more attention to GCH’s music. You’re a goof-cow, Evie.
I had to rate this chapter “moving” because… it is.
The humor, the drama. I couldn’t ask for more. (Well, I guess my spaghetti would have to be with meatballs.)
This is such a good story, it’s killer.