WILL
Jesus Christ.
I knew Catalina was beautiful but I didn't expect her to have the kind of body that would make supermodels jealous underneath the flimsy nightgowns Luna has been making her wear. There should be a statue made out of her body—it's so perfect that I can't believe it's real. It's only when she screeches in shock that I realize she wasn't expecting me to be here.
"Sorry," I mumble before shutting the door behind me and rushing away, which is for the best.
Why did I go looking for her?
Great. I can't remember. Why does my brain always go to the same place when I look at her?
