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When Heath’s muddy foot brushes my boot, my body turns to stone, and I slowly look down. A hushed silence falls over the yard. No one moves. Even the creatures of the forest seem to freeze in place, terrified of what I may or may not do. My red. Beautiful. Shiny. Awesome Boots. Mud. Dirty. Mucky. Mud. “Oh shit,” Heath says on a hiss.
Going Wild (The Wild Ones, #2)
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