“You're doing fucking awesome, Colt whispers in my ear and I can't help but smile at that. Only he would use the word 'fuck' at my mom's funeral.”

“I thought this was a game,” I remind him. “Not anymore and you know it. Everything else in my life is all fucked up. This is the only thing that’s real.”

“Tegan leans forward, pressing his lips to mine too quickly for my taste. "Because." Another kiss. "You're." Oh, one more. "My girl." Two kisses this time. "And it doesn't feel right for you to pay me for us to work out together. Because I want to be able to kiss you when I want and I can't do that if you're my client."At least I think that's what he said. I'm not sure I caught anything after him telling me I'm his girl."I am? Your girl, I mean?"He gives my waist a squeeze and I suck in my stomach. "I thought so, unless you're only using me for my make-out abilities.""You're so -""Conceited. I know. But you like it.”

“Colt lies on my bed and pulls me down behind him. I expect him to go for my clothes, but instead he kisses me again. “Blanket.” I mutter, between kisses. “If you’re cold I’m doing something wrong.”

“I'm fucking good at this boyfriend shit. Who would have thought?”

“I don’t know how in the fuck we got here, but somehow this game is more real than anything else.And I want it.I fucking want it.”

“But my stomach starts constricting because I MIGHT HAVE WANTED IT TO BE A DATE. I mean, what is that? Dates lead to commitment and commitment leads to temporary insanity and temporary insanity leads to full on mental illness—picking out china patterns, choosing museums to get married in—and ends with two fucked-in-the head sons and a dad trying to hold it together when he’s just as fucked-in-the-head as they are.So no, I definitely don’t want it to have been a date.”