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I put a cigarette between my lips and slipped my hands into my pockets. I wasn’t going to light it. If I did, I’d have to admit she unsettled me, and I refused to do that over a fucking grade-school kiss.
He nipped my bottom lip. “You make me fucking crazy.” “Don’t blame me for your psychosis.” “You are my psychosis.”
She had a long way to go to be a Russo, but hell, I’d walk with her the whole way.
