“It’s okay,” I hurried to say, folding my legs under myself to give him more space to stretch out. “I usually sit like this,” I added, my voice a small whisper as I gestured to my kneeling position. “My own personal booster seat.” “That’s hardly comfortable, Shannon.” “It’s okay.” His blue eyes locked on mine, and he shook his head. “Give me your legs.” “My wh-what?” I spluttered, breathing erratic. “Your legs,” he coaxed, patting his lap. “Seems only fair since I’m taking up all the legroom.” “You want me to put my legs on you?” “I want you to be comfortable.” “But what about your sore—” “I’m
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