More and more, Karen is realizing that she doesn’t have a type. She’s been with the good guy and she’s been with the guy people say is wrong for her, bad in some way, but she’s loved them both. Who’s to say that she couldn’t love Bucky, too, along with his uHaul truck of trauma that seemed to match her own. He’s sweet, funny and he can make her feel like every nerve in her body is tingling with electricity. She isn’t lying when she says that he’s special.

Karen nods her head, innocent doe eyes looking up at Bucky.. Yes, please. She lifts her long blonde hair so he has access to the bow tied behind her back that holds her halter dress up.

I don’t want to sound… Well, it’s just that you were born so long ago and I don’t have very much on me to remove. I don’t want you to think I’m easy or anything...