Lydia N Driver

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I’m not thinking when I grab his wrist and steal my paintbrush back, but damn, his skin is soft. The warmth from his wrist wraps deliciously around my palm, and when I glance up, I’ve somehow tugged him closer. That stunning face holds nothing but surprise, and the thud of my heart gets more insistent. I’m stuck in his gravity, and it takes me way too long to let go.
Not Catching Love (Accidental Love, #5)
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