Nadia
NadiaSunday we stay in bed until late afternoon. My body is sore and raw in all the right places. I haven’t felt this comfortable being n***d or even being in my own skin since before my a*******n. Actually, ever.
Something about Flynn just allows me to let down my guard. To feel free. Like anything’s possible.
Flynn gained another fifty thousand followers since last night’s show. The short clips I posted seem to be going viral.
Flynn’s phone dings with an incoming text, and he picks it up and looks at it. “Hey, this is my dad,” he says, leaning up on an elbow. “He wants to know if I can fill in with his band in an hour.”
“Yes! I want to see his band. With you playing. May I come?”
Flynn’s grin is lazy. It makes my heart lurch. “Well, yeah. I was sort of asking you if it was ok
