Wild Eyes

“Always better when we’re together,”

“We’re a love song, West. Tragic and true all at once. I thought I could be both versions of myself. Starlet Skylar and Rose Hill Skylar. But I’m only going to ruin what you have here. I won’t mean to, but I will. That’s the nature of my beast. Please don’t be another person telling me what to do with my life.”

You look an awful lot like you belong to me.”

“No, Skylar.” His eyes snap up to mine. “It’s almost like I love you.”

“Well, thank god for that. Because I’d hate to love you the way I do and not have you do the same.”

“Listen, I get it. There aren’t bears in the city. It’s an experience. But that”—I point at the bear—“is not Winnie the Pooh.”

You don’t love someone only when it’s convenient or easy. You love them when it’s fucking awful and the world is falling apart around you.

There’s a man who will do everything for you.

And then there’s a man who is secure enough to realize there are things you need to do for yourself—

My finger rolls along the mouse, taking me through the series of photos.

Skylar.

Naked in front of a mirror, perfect tits on full display, hand demurely covering her pussy. Hand pulled away. Another with black lacy underwear, curls cascading around her bare breasts. Then with a bra. Then with nylons and fucking garters. Then with heels.

“I’m not—” Rhys cuts off, raking an agitated hand through his hair. “Listen, I’m planning a wedding. Wondering if you guys would like to come to it?”

“Who’s getting married?” I ask, now confused. “Wait, are you saying you’re a wedding planner?”

“No. I’m getting married.”