“The Three Hundreds suck! You suck, Toronto!” What in the hell? Just as I started to glance around to see what idiot was yelling, Aiden’s index finger touched my chin. I stopped. “Don’t bother.” “Why?” I tried turning my head, but apparently his finger had Hulk-like strength because it didn’t go anywhere. “Because I don’t care what he thinks,” he said in a tone so serious I quit trying to look elsewhere and focused in on that handsome, grave face. “But it’s rude.” His hand moved from my chin around to the back of my head, that big palm cupping my neck. His thumb to the tip of his middle finger
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