Do you want to break your racquet over my back?” Jean looked taken aback. “No.” “But don’t you want me to improve?” “Yes, but—” Maybe he was imagining it: Cat’s upturned face covered with bruises, blood drying at the corner of her mouth. He reached for her, testing her head for nonexistent lumps, and Jeremy’s heart ached. Cat’s gaze went soft, and she tugged Jean’s hand around where she could kiss his palm. Jean finally said, “Not you. Not like that.”
Thats it im DONEEEE MY HEART FUCJFKGMRGGYJ
