Forget the clinic, go to Mexico. Hashtag codependency he's young and hip.

The glow of infatuation lasted a hot minute before she's given a choice: chop his squirrelly hands off or submit to stripping in a bustling parking lot?

"Edward, Jesus..." Her eyes rove around from window to window, from passing cars to the group of smokers collected at the pub's back entrance. And Paloma with her titties half out of her fluffy dress, obscured by Hyde's back, thank God. The door juts uncomfortably into her spine. Without exactly rebuffing or challenging him, she splays her fingers out across his stomach. "Can't you wait until after dinner? We'll be late?"