“You don’t have to do,” he says quietly, and it takes me a moment to comprehend what he’s saying. What he’s offering. “No,” I breathe. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I could never ask you to do that.” His mouth curves into a sardonic smile. “You’ve got a lot of moral hang-ups for someone who could’ve called the cops but, instead, called me.”
clock it 🤏
