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“You’re in Ireland. That’s what we got here, repentance and Guinness.”
Then I’m going to go Christmas nuclear all over his St. Patrick’s Day ass.
Holy fucking shitballs goddamn.
“Fuck me,” I groan to my plate. Loch doesn’t hesitate. “Only if you say please.”
I’m going to commit a murder at a charity 5k family fun run.
He kisses me, and the world goes ultraviolet.
My brain splits in half. Half again. I’m shredding into pieces.
