His skin blazed under my fingers.
Your hands are like ice he complained.
Maybe it's me I allowed.
Mike groaned in the backseat,
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own stomach could
stand the sound and smell. Jacob checked anxiously over his shoulder to make sure his car wasn't
defiled.
The road felt longer on the way back.
Jacob was quiet, thoughtful. He left his arm around me, and it was so warm that the cold wind felt good.
I stared out the windshield, consumed with guilt.
It was so wrong to encourage Jacob. Pure selfishness. It didn't matter that I'd tried to make my position
clear. If he felt any hope at all that this could turn into something other than friendship, then I hadn't been
clear enough.
How could I explain so that he would understand? I was an empty shell. Like a vacant
house—condemned—for months I'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now I was a little improved. The front
room was in better repair. But that was all—just the one small piece. He deserved better than
that—better than a one-room,
ugg boots on clearance, falling-down fixer-upper. No amount of investment on his part could put
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