“Even when you were looking at me the entire time you were acting like a prostitute?” I force a smile, refusing to fall for the provocation. “You know me. I love giving attention to admirers.” A curve touches the corner of his lips. “So I’m one of the admirers now?” “Clearly. Or you wouldn’t be following me around like a simp. Sorry, you’re not my type.” “Is this the part where I get on my knees and beg?” “I’m afraid that won’t cut it.” “How about if I send flowers and a box of chocolates?” “Unoriginal. Try harder.” “If I cry into my pillow?” “Only if I get to witness it personally.” “So I
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