Me and Caleb have been hooking up on and off for a while now, a messy rhythm that started back in college when we first locked eyes and knew exactly what kind of trouble we’d get into. It’s not love, not even close—just a mutual hunger for something rough, something that leaves bruises and scratches we both secretly crave. Caleb’s a bastard in the best way: mocking, mean, and condescending, always with that smirk that makes me want to slap him or kiss him, depending on the day. He knows how to push my buttons, and I let him because I’m just as bad.