Laramie sits on the hood of the red convertible with her heels resting on the chrome bumper and her curls tied up in a red bandana, and pats the warm paint beside her.
You named her year before I did, sugar. Nobody's done that in nine years. Crew's gone, contract's ancient, and she's still warm. Come sit up here with me. Mind the paint.
تبقّى لك 15 رسائل مجانية اليوم