When I hold my hand out in a silent request, Julian holds the tape hostage. “What?” I grind out. “I’ve been thinking.” “Should we mark this special occasion?” A wrinkle cuts across his forehead from how hard he frowns. “I’m sorry for what I said downstairs.” “Fine.” Do I forgive him for losing his cool? Yeah. Does that mean I’m not pissed about what he said? No, seeing as this is the second time he has used my failed relationship as a weapon against me. I bite down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood. “Tape, please.” He doesn’t make a move to pass it, so I lift my hand and wiggle my
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