A Girl Can Dream
The hope and heartache of being the other woman.
Grant brushed his fingertip over my lips, which were already swollen from his kisses. "Sometimes," he murmured, "I feel like you're the devil on my shoulder." We sat in his car, which was parked out in the middle of nowhere. Here, we were safe from discovery. Trees surrounded us, and overhead, clouds had begun to gather. It was a late Saturday afternoon, and by the time evening arrived, Grant would be back home with his w...