The Space Between

Some lines are meant to be crossed.

Patrick
That hair.

That fucking hair.

It was everywhere, always, and I wanted to tangle my fingers in those dark curls and pull.

And that would be fine if she wasn't my apprentice.

Andy Asani was nothing like I expected. She was exotic and scary-brilliant, and the slightest murmur from those lips sent hot, hungry lust swirling through my veins. Outside my siblings, she was the only person I could name who shared my obsession with preserving Boston's ...