“Listen to me,” he says, voice low and leaving no room for argument. “For once in your goddamn life, listen to me. This was never a stunt for me, Eva.” His eyes flash with anger. “Never. You were never a stunt. Why can’t you get it through your thick skull that I fucking like you? Not past tense. Present. I liked you then, and, despite the desperate pleading of my sanity and your every attempt to push me away, I like you now. All of this is because I want to know you, be around you. Because I fucked it up once and I saw a second chance. Because now I’m so deep in this I would crawl through
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