The Shape of You, Ed Sheeran

"the club isn't the best place to find a lover..."
You dislike most modern pop, but Ed Sheeran is an exception. Ever since he did that cameo in your favorite show, you've been enjoying more and more of his music.
"Do you like Ed Sheeran, Tara?"
"Yeah. His songs are romantic and he's cute." She smiles. "I like that scruffy look."
"Well, I guess Jared does have that going for him."
Tara looks wistful. "I think that's the reason I started dating him in the first place." She trails off, looking troubled.
You really don't want to be the one to tell her about Jared's less than stellar record with fidelity. But...
"Tara... I should tell you..."
"I know... I've heard things..." she tightens her lips and clenches her fists. "I... self-worth isn't a strong suit of mine. I tend to pick guys who don't treat me with respect..." she reaches out to stroke your arm... "or ones that aren't available." Her smile is intoxicating.
"and though my heart is falling too, I'm in love with your bo-ooody..."
"I'm sorry. I thought I taught him better than that, Tara." You glance at her hand on your arm, but say nothing. "Somewhere along the line, he just stopped listening to me, I guess." You reach out to place a hand on her knee, and you can't help but feel sparks fly.
"He doesn't hurt me... which is a low bar, but puts him above quite a few guys I've been with."
"Not being honest with you is hurting you, Tara..." you feel the slight hypocrisy of your words a
as your hand travels up her inner thigh. She says nothing, and her breathing is starting to grow shallow and quick.
"Turn up the stereo!" she suddenly breaks free, opening the door and sliding up onto the hood of the car. She taps on the windshield. "Come up here with me. Let's look at the stars for a while."
This is not a smart idea. But sometimes...you're not a smart man.
Which is how you find yourself making out with Tara on the hood of your Javelin as "Shape of You" reaches its denouement.
"Tara... I don't..."
She strokes your cheek and looks into your eyes. "I don't either..." and her kiss pushes thought out of your head once more. Your hands are everywhere, exploring her young body.
"You know," you say past her shoulder as she kisses your neck, "this isn't really helping my point about Jared..."
"I know..." she stops, sitting up. She strokes your chest through your t-shirt, and looks regretful. "I'm sorry. There I go again, trying to take something that doesn't belong to me..."