Parker

“I figured it out when you moaned my brother’s name while coming around my cock.” His eyes dipped down as if to remind me I was still on him.

“If he can make you come harder than you did around my cock, he deserves a medal.”

“Fuck.” He pushed me down harder on him, grinding his cock between my thighs. “I can’t figure out what’s worse—that you’re twenty-fucking-two, that you’re my brother’s best friend, or that my mouth has never touched your pussy.”

Just didn’t have it in me to spend an hour telling strangers to get their shit together when the thing I wanted most, aside from my brother resurrected from the dead, was to screw his high school crush and possibly the love of his life in ways that would make a porn star blush.

When you hate someone, a piece of them is lodged in your heart. If you don’t let the hate go, you live with that person inside you forever.”

And I imagine fucking the love of my brother’s life often. Very often. Occasionally with my dick in my hands, like a fucking pervert.”

it took my little brother dying for me to realize he’d been cutting himself for years.

It was difficult to reconcile the existence of fairness when Tate Marchetti had been born with an assault rifle for a cock.

Love is expensive.

Its currency is grief.

And sometimes, it costs more than you can afford.

“Love is just being there for someone.