Daxton

I didn’t mean to check but I couldn’t stop my eyes from wandering to what Verena had scribbled in her journal. She wrote about how she had to cancel her ticket and would go to the football game when she was granted leave. 

Why wait for a leave when we could fucking leave together?

Verena’s hair was slicked back into a bun that rested at the nape of her neck while she took a big bite of her burger. 

And me? All I did was gawk over her, mesmerized with the way she chewed, the way her throat worked, and how much of a stunner she was. 

As if...