“So if you hadn’t decided you wanted to date her, you would have just fucked her and never told me?” “No,” I say, then, “Maybe. I don’t know. The point is—” The rest of the sentence dies off as Charlotte pulls the hockey stick back and then hits me in the balls with it. “Oh shit,” Ty says as I crumple forward and breathe through the pain. He takes the hockey stick in one hand and picks up Charlotte with the other. I manage to stand, but the pain is still like a fire in my gut. “Saves me having to do it, I guess,” Tyler says. The anger in his expression has morphed slightly. I wouldn’t say he
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