“Look at me.” It hurt to look at her. To feel how deeply I felt and know that I wasn’t good for her. “Look at me,” she repeated, green eyes burning through me as the song played around us. “Keep your eyes on me.” Shivering, she kept me close and said, “Make this song about us instead.” With a dull ache in my chest, I forced myself to comply. To give this girl whatever she wanted. “I love you.” “I know.” “I don’t want to hurt you.” She stroked my cheek. “I know that, too.” Exhaling a pained breath, I let my brow sag against hers. “You’re all I want, Molloy.” “Then prove it,” she whispered,
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