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God. It would be so easy to just— No. I don’t want to be careless with her. It’s not just her body. Her first time. It’s her heart. It’s my heart. It’s my hang-up on faking it. It’s my control in question. Which is why I pull out and reach for the toy that’s lying forgotten on the mattress beside us.
Hopeless (Chestnut Springs, #5)
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