Page 65 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Yes, one could officially call me a donkey’s butt.

He didn’t need to know about that right now.

“Did you bring me anything else?” I asked.

To my surprise, Len opened the door again, bent down, and picked something up. A big white bag that readOlive Gardenon the front. “I brought you pasta,” he said as he closed the door again. “Thought you might be hungry.”

Ooh, I smelled cream sauce.

“And?” I asked.

“You said you wanted sex, so I brought my penis.”

I sucked in a giddy breath and leapt at him. “PenisandOlive Garden? I love you, Lennon McCartney.”

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