Catie Boylan

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“I wanted…” I begin, and his mouth ticks with either amusement or annoyance. “For you to fall out of that tree today and break your neck.” I say it just as sweetly to him, feeling his grip tighten on my neck and where his other hand is wrapped against my waist. “But, as they say, you can’t always get what you want.”
Dead of Summer
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