40. Dirty Secret

Sage

Despite what everyone said, what they will continue to say, despite the anarchy he raises, Dante Sokolov is sin wrapped in a gloriously beautiful male human body. And he's what truly living feels like. This substantial, nebulous force that could never be watered down or put out.

When we agreed to be friends with benefits last year, I knew he'd be bad for me. I never really cared. I was caught up in his hot body and sexy accent that felt velvety in my ears.

“The fire which never goes out,” I whisper out loud, without thinking fully.

My head feels light, buzzing on a different wavelength than normal. Everything feels more intense—the music from the party thudding in my ears, the way Dante’s thighs shift beneath me, the smell of the weed.

He sets the half-smoked blunt right side up in the cup holder, the cherry still burning bright.

“Are you going to be the person who gets philosophical when they’re high?” His mouth tilts up in the corner, giving me a sharp grin.

“No, no.”