“You left me in that bed, remember? I’m the one who should be stomping around. I wanted your name. Hell, we could have been two months deeper into something by now instead of starting fresh—” “No,” she gasps, pulling away. Her arms are wrapped around her middle so tight, a pathetic excuse for armor. “Jake, we can’t do this.” Oh, fuck me. My name on her lips is stronger than a shot from cupid’s bow straight to my dick. “Say it again.” She looks up at me. “We can’t do this.” “No.” I shake my head. “Say my name.” “Don’t,” she murmurs. “Please, don’t.” “Don’t what?” I reply, inching closer, my
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