Alisha Eadle

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“I wasn’t ogling you,” I lied, drawing the tatters of my dignity around me in a last-ditch shield. “Sure, and rain isn’t wet.” Asher stood, looking remarkably put together for a quarter past three in the morning. Further proof the universe didn’t play fair. “It’s alright, darling. I won’t hold it against you.”
The Striker (Gods of the Game, #1)
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