No More Secondhand Men​

Summary

My boyfriend was a boy genius, cold and brilliant, with a pathological aversion to physical touch.

We’d been together for years, but we’d never done any of the intimate things couples do. Not a single one. I’d convinced myself that was just his nature, and I was prepared for a life of platonic love.

That is, until his birthday. I took a forty-hour trip in a cramped coach seat, all the way across the country, just to surprise him.

And I saw him. Standing under a streetlamp.

He was smiling as he gave the ponytail of the girl next to him a playful tug, then laced his fingers through hers.