“Hey,” he says, still holding me in place. I’m frozen, looking up at him, torn between pulling away and staying put. “Don’t worry about it. I know a jealousy kiss when I see one.” “I didn’t realize you were his teammate.” He just shrugs. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. We talked; we’re cool.” “Oh. Good.” I stop and pull away, giving us a couple feet of distance. “Um. Even besides that, we can’t.” “I know,” he says easily. “But I did want to talk about something else.” His lack of a fight hurts, which is stupid, because I just told him to back off. It would never work. Even if we just
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