“Oh my God, I sent a picture of my boobs to Jim," I moaned as a fresh wave of nausea rolled through me."You also threw up in the emergency room parking lot, called Drew and told him you were the Donkey Punch Dick Queen and filled out a Last Will and Testament on a Burger King napkin and then asked the drive-thru worker to notarize it.”

“[I hear phone sex can work], I sent, [but I kind of doubt text-sex would.]He sent me a picture shot down his pants. I snickered and sent him a picture of my mouth.[autehigixuhi&^%$], he sent back. Then, [yeah, phone sex not satisfying. Also I think I dick-dialed Kentucky.]”

“And I told you: I think of a photograph you took of me, up in Montreal. You told me to jump in the air, so in the picture, my feet are off the ground. Later, I asked you why you wanted me to do that, and you told me it was the only way to get me to forget about the expression on my face. You were right. I am completely unposed, completely genuine. In my mind’s eye, I picture myself like that, reacting to you.”

“I was going to punch the shit out him," he told me. I could feel his voice vibrating against my skin. "Luke. I didn't though. You know why?"I'd wondered about that."You asked me not to. Last summer. Remember? You gave me that note. 'Stop punching people.' It's the only thing you've ever asked me to do. I can do that much for you. I think I'd do anything for you.”

“Who are you to me?”And with no doubt, my lips parted and I moaned, “Your queen.”

“I have to admit I wasn't to keen on this idea when you first told me you were going out at midnight to see him, but I guess maybe I was wrong... Have you guys? God, Karen. I rolled my eyes. Oh well, let's not hope that's not the killer in the relationship since he sounds perfect in every other way. Wow, thanks for spoiling it nerd.”