I see a glimmering ruby on a spider-fine chain. Dean lifts the necklace aloft. The pendant hangs suspended from his fingers, the stone as rich and dark as a droplet of blood. He drapes it around my neck, the necklace already warm from his body heat. “It suits you,” he says softly. “You like how I look tonight?” I ask. This is my first time dressing as a woman, not a girl—sultry, sophisticated. I didn’t know if it worked, or I only look ridiculous. “Cat,” Dean says seriously. “There’s no one more beautiful than you.” My heart soars up all over again, and I can’t help saying, “So . . . is this a
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