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330 pages, Paperback
First published September 8, 2022

It’s Macon.
Shirtless Macon.
Shirtless Macon working behind a pottery wheel.
The first thing I notice is that the front of his curly hair is pulled back in a little pink butterfly clip, which should look ridiculous, but it doesn’t. He’s crouched over slightly, and he’s chewing on his lip as his focus stays on the wheel between his legs.
She’s an addiction. My worst fucking addiction.”
Beg for it, Lennon Capri,” he rasps. His voice is low, breathless. He’s teetering on the edge, just like me. “Be a good girl and ask me nicely for your orgasm.”
I hate myself a little less when Lennon is around, even on days when she hates me enough for the both of us.

“Why did he call you Astraea?” I hear Claire ask Lennon quietly. Then I hear the tiniest amused laugh. Lennon’s.
“She’s the Greek goddess of purity and innocence,” Lennon says. “Celestial virgin.”
Claire snorts. “Innocent, maybe,” she jokes, “but virginal and pure? Definitely not.”
My fists clench at my sides and my heart kicks hard into my rib cage. I barely register Lennon telling Claire to shush through the sound of blood rushing in my ears. What the fuck does she mean, definitely not? I pull my coat off my face and glare at Lennon, the embarrassed shade of pink on her cheeks—the same one that usually amuses me—makes my vision blur with fury.”

