She looks up at me with those vulnerable eyes. “What if it means something?” She asks.
“What if it does?”
“Promise me it won’t mean anything.”
I lean my head back on the couch. “It won’t mean anythin’.” Aren’t I supposed to be the guy in this scenario, laying down the no-commitment rules?
“And no tongue,” she adds.
“Mi vida, if I kiss you, I guarantee there’s gonna be tongue.
