C50 50

I plan to drown my sorrows until this terrible knot at the pit of my stomach goes away. I’m not going to dig into emotions better left alone just because Colton McKinley makes dumbass assumptions about me.

“Hey, Colton,” Jake says, and I stiffen.

“Hi, Jake. Do you have any of the new NA stout left?” His voice is as smooth as velvet, and so deep I just want to close my eyes and listen.

Instead