Brendon follows behind me a few steps, then grabs my hand and holds it. Butterflies tickle my stomach, and I give his hand a light squeeze. I don’t think he’s ever held my hand before. Is it the booze? “I’m sorry, Pauly boy,” he sighs, lifting the back of my hand to rub his prickly cheek against. “Sorry for what?” My voice is a little shaky, but I doubt he notices. “That I can’t love you the way you deserve.” He pulls me along with him across campus to our building. Uh. Excuse me? Fucking what?! My feet stop moving as I stare at the beautiful man rubbing his face along my skin. “What does that
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