“But Ellie's fingertips brushed over my cheekbone, soft as rose petals. Traced my temple, my jawline. She touched me like I was precious. No one in my entire life had been gentle with me. And her lips said, "I'm here" and "Be mine." But wait. She was faking it. We both were. A fake kiss could taste like vanilla milkshakes and prosecco and feel like floating on a cloud.”
Book:The Slowest Burn