Do you ever lose the ego?” Westford asks me.
“Yeah.” When his daughter kisses me, my ego flies out the window.

That’s not the only reason I’m stayin’, chica. I can’t leave you any more than I could walk
out that door right now while my leg is busted up. I was just thinkin’ . . . should we tell your
parents now or later?”
“Tell them what?” I ask, eyes wide.
He kisses me softly, then says proudly, “That we’re in a serious, monogamous, committed
relationship.”
“We are?”
“Sí. And when I get out of here, I’m gonna fix the door to your car.

Just so you know, I’m goin’ to enlist.”
“I’m proud of you. But why?”
I groan against the pain but manage to give him a half smile. “I want to make sure Kiara’s got a boyfriend who has more to offer than a hot bod and a face that could make angels weep.

You’re not the only one in this relationship who loves a
challenge,” he says. “And just so you know for the future, I like my double-chocolate chip
cookies warm and soft in the middle . . . and without magnets glued to them.

What happens when I break one of your fuckin’ rules?

A garter. You’re supposed to take it off and keep it as a memento. K-k-kinda like a trophy
for going far sexually with a girl. It’s stupid, really. And kind of d-d-degrading if I think about
it too m-m-much.”
“I know what it is,” he says, amusement evident in his voice. “I just wanted to hear your
explanation.