Gemotions

He nearly spat out his coffee. Liam stared at the magazine, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Applying to Harvard: Essays That Worked!" It was like a cruel joke, except he wasn't particularly bothered. There, under the headline, was his name and his essay on beekeeping.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping the spine of the magazine against his chin. He had written the thing on a whim, after a particularly bad breakup, convinced it would never see the light of day. Apparently, Harvard admissions liked honey metaphors.

"Wow," he breathed, a low, rumbling sound. He’d almost forgotten the specifics, the way he’d described the queen bee as a metaphor for his controlling ex-girlfriend. He felt a warm flush creep up his neck. Oh, the irony.