“I don’t know about rugby kicks, but you’re prettier than any other nerd,” I replied. “Any other rugby player, too.” My words caused Hugh to full-on blush this time and I cackled. “You look even prettier when you blush.” “You’re not supposed to call me pretty, Liz,” he muttered, looking embarrassed. “I’m supposed to call you pretty.” “Then call me pretty.” He rolled his eyes. “You know you’re pretty.” “Come on, I want to hear you say it.” Turning my body sideways, I reached up and grabbed his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t be shy.” “You’re pretty,” he said, eyes
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