“I’m too old to be anybody’s boyfriend,” Rhodes said in that hoarse, solemn voice that carried so much weight in it. “But I do like you more than I should. More than you might feel comfortable with.” He didn’t move, and neither did I. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest at his implications. Even my skin prickled. “I wanted to call you, but I was trying to give you room.” “Why?” I asked like he’d just said he liked eating mayonnaise straight from the jar. His answer was a sigh followed by, “Because . . . I’ve been watching you grow for months. I don’t want to be something
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