Turn it off,” she said, her voice cracking.“It’s still good music,” Joe told her with an almost apologetic shrug.“It’s crap,” she breathed, still totally taken aback by the music playing again.He shook his head. “No, it’s not crap!” he said patiently and started peeling out of his sweater, trying hard not to get his braced hand caught in the sleeve. He emerged, his hair a bit messy, and tossed the sweater back towards the sofa.
Billy Wood-Smith, An Interrupted Love Story
contemporary-romance