Mathilde Emdal

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In rare moments, Caleb will look at me and it feels like he’s wrapping his fingers between the bones of my sternum, gripping tight, and pulling with all his strength. I’m made breathless by the look. I ache. But then I blink, and it’s gone. The shadows in his eyes lift, and he turns away from me. The sensation of being wanted fizzles into nothing. Perhaps I’ve imagined it.
Pucking Ever After(Jacksonville Rays, #2.5)
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