How can one man fail to read every single sign a woman is giving him? I’m falling off my stool as he leans in even closer, giving my hair an exaggerated sniff. I freeze. “Mmm, you smell good,” he murmurs. “Is that Chanel No. 9?” Yeah, this is my absolute limit. It’s time to yeet Chad back to his table. I take a deep breath, shoving Dragon Rachel back inside her cage. There’s no reason to make a scene. I’ll just turn him down with my big girl words. But then the fucker dares to reach out and brush his fingers down my spine. This jumpsuit is backless, so he’s grazing my bare skin. I smack my
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