Birdee

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He’s still holding the hand he used to help me up, so he claps me on the shoulder with the other and we lock eyes for a moment. His tongue slips out to wet his lips, and I find myself watching it for no reason. Somewhere deep inside my lizard brain, a warning bell goes off. But I don’t know what the warning is, and I’m pretty sure I won’t until it’s too late.
Stupid Dirty (Possum Hollow, #1)
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