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“Free sausage rolls?” I feigned excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say that earlier? I’m in.” His eyes widened in delight. “Really?” I rolled my eyes. “No, not really, you langer.”
“Are you going to look at me?” “Not right now.” “Why not?” “Because it hurts too much.” My heart constricted in my chest. “Baby.”
Common sense or not, the big man certainly seemed to have his priorities in order, placing his curly-haired queen in a firm first-place position. While the rest of his friends had long since abandoned their girlfriends and dates, Gibsie hadn’t taken more than three steps away from Claire all night.
“Well, that’s bad fucking luck on my account, because you sure as shit own me!”
“Why would you say that to me?” “Because it’s the truth.” “Since when?” “Since I was twelve.”
Because every part of me loved every part of her. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I fucking reveled in all of it.
“Tell me you’re sorry.” I gave in without a fight, too weary and too damn in love to fight my feelings. “I’m sorry.” “How sorry?” “Very sorry.” “Good boy.”
“Stop trying to protect me and start making me happy,” she countered, eyes locked on mine. “Because it’s time to pick your poison, Joey Lynch.”
“It’s you,” he repeated gruffly, fingers tightening on my waist. “I pick you. Every single time.”
“I’ll love you the right way this time,” he whispered, and his breath fanned my cheek. “If you’ll show me how.”
“I’m yours,” I whispered, giving myself entirely to him. “You can have me anytime, anyplace, anywhere because you own me.”
“Hey, stud.” “Hey, queen.”
“Because I’m only doing life for you.”

