Taylor

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“Because I knew I was coming back. You were a mess—respectfully—and I was out of control. We both needed time.” A thin laugh spills from her lips. “I’m still a mess now.” I splay my fingers lower on her back, trailing them over the top seam of her underwear as I gaze out over the packed dance floor. “Maybe I don’t care. Maybe I want to be messy with you forever.”
Reckless (Chestnut Springs, #4)
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