I didn’t mean to be an outsider.
A photographer’s life means always moving, always documenting. I create brilliant, soul-melting photos, but every morning, I wake up alone. Until I met my brother’s roommate.
Robert Quidell understands the side effects of his bad boy behavior: No bonds. No commitment. No connection. He gives his goddesses one night of wish fulfillment and supernova sex. But, like me, he always wakes up alone.
Rob thinks graduate school will allow him to shed his bad boy reputation. For me, crashing at my brother’s apartment should be a momentary opportunity for stability.
We never expected to find each other. But connection means sacrifice. Can we leave our old ways behind? Or will commitment mean sacrificing brilliantly fulfilled wishes?
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