“Let me get this straight,” her mother demanded, her gaze flickering between Shannon and me. Recognition flashed in her pale-blue eyes, of what I had no fucking idea because I was feeling clueless right about now. “He knocked you over, tore your clothes off, and then he put his jersey on you?” I muttered a string of curses and ran a hand through my hair. It sounded so fucking bad when she said it like that. “I didn’t—” “He helped me, Mam,” Shannon snapped. She moved to stand up, and like the asshole I was, I moved to help her, catching a narrowing glare from her mother. I went to her anyway.
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