Park Avenue Punk by Cole, Aria

It’s been five years since I last saw her. Years since she broke my heart. Five tortured years since I forced myself to hate the girl I loved. But I couldn’t stay away. And every part of me felt that old familiar pull to her when Deven caught me red-handed outside of her building on Fifth Avenue. I’m not who she remembered. I’m the Park Avenue punk, tagging the city’s buildings one night at a time. She may have saved my ass once, but I won’t let her sway her curvy hips into my head again. Or so that’s what I told myself even though I knew it was a losing battle when it came to Deven. She’s my heart’s worst enemy. I plan on making her feel every cold-hearted inch of my hate, one forbidden moment at a time.