“I like you.” “Wow,” I breathed. “Another admission.” “The hardest one yet.” “I bet.” “I know what you want us to be,” he added, tone gruff. “But that can’t happen.” “Joe—” “No, listen to me,” he urged, giving my hand a small squeeze. “I can be your friend, okay? I can do that. But you need to know that I’ve got some bad genes running through my system. Some seriously fucked up DNA.” “Nobody’s perfect, Joe.” “It’s not about being perfect, Molloy.” Releasing my hand, I watched as he crouched down and retrieved my heel from the mud. “It’s about being dangerous,” he added, wiping it clean with
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