“Hey, Rebecca?” She turns and looks at me with those perfect eyes. “Do you think I could see you again sometime?”

“That would be nice,” she replies, hitting me again with that beautiful, flirtatious smile. “Just stop by the gas station sometime.”

Lindsay Moe
Wasted Life
Page 1. . . 2. . . 3. . . 4. . . 5. . . 6. . . 7. . . 8. . . 9