Timi Floom

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“Do you want—” “Yes,” I cut her off immediately. Her smile tips wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I didn’t finish my sentence.” “I don’t care.” “I could say I want to go ice skating again.” Her eyes shine in amusement. “I could say I want to go cut down a Christmas tree.” “Whatever you want.”
Good Spirits (Ghosted, #1)
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