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something is happening to my chest.
“Good to know. I’ll throw out all my hair ties because Aiden Crawford likes it when girls wear their hair down.” Wrapping the bandage around her ankle, I glance at her. “Not girls. You.”
“You don’t need blackmail to get me to do what you want, Summer.”
“And see your porn history?
“You dance?” I ask when he lifts my hand onto his shoulder. “No,” he says. “But I want to with you.”
“I didn’t want to be late.” “Late for what?” “For you,”
“Just me then?” “Just you.” Why am I whispering?

