“It’s my place to stand beside you, and support you, and yes, just fucking look pretty on your arm sometimes. It’s my right, my duty, and my privilege, Eva, just as it’s yours in reverse.”

“Admit it, you want to be fucked and it’s not Emen, that dull fuck, you want to feel saddled fast and riding hard between your legs. It’s me. My bruises on your skin, my bite marks for you to wear as if it were the finest jewelry.”

“I didn’t know what the hell to say to that. I just gave an ungrateful sigh of exasperation and pulled the sweater over my head.‘It’s just your colour,’ Henry enthused.‘And you can fuck right off,’ I said.”

“Sometimes,” he says, sliding his arm across my shoulders, “people just want to be happy, even if it’s not real.”

“Don’t be hating on my peacock. It’s just not right. - Kye”

“Whatever this shit is between us it’s always been there and it’s always gonna be there. I’m shit-fuckin’-tired tryin’ to ignore it. I’ll try to do right by you Eva, you’d be the first, but I’ll fuckin’ try my damndest. And baby, true freedom is the open road, the wind on your face and a good woman on the back of your bike holdin’ you tight like you’re her reason for breathin’ because she sure as fuck is yours.”