I ignored my heart hammering and asked, “Breaking all that down, are you saying you want to move in with me?” “Uh…yeah, Hanna. I decided to have a home again, and after I spend time dealin’ with scum, I wanna come home. Home to a house with a porch swing where I can wash that scum down the drain and climb into bed with a woman who puts an outrageously fat cat in her ludicrous basket on her ridiculous bike. My woman.” “My bike isn’t ridiculous,” I protested. “Babe,” he leaned in, “it is.” I ignored that too, and semi-repeated, “You want to move in?” His brows snapped together. “Are you
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