“Don’t look, but behind you is a man in all black, a camera in hand, taking a picture.” “Oh,” I whisper. “So don’t punch me for touching you, okay?” he whispers, a small smile on his lips. Fuck. It’s a good thing he doesn’t smile often. I couldn’t handle seeing it more than once in a blue moon. “Got it,” I whisper. “Show’s on,” he says, lowering our hands then releasing mine. But he moves next to me, hooking a hand around my waist and tugging me close. My body prickles where it touches his and I shiver. He must think that it’s nerves, that the shiver is from anxiety instead of
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