She could use a couple days of sleep with the dark circles under her eyes and maybe a burger or some sun. Her body’s hidden, so I can’t tell if she’s bones under all that mess or if she has curve appeal. She fidgets, and unable to maintain eye contact, glances away, but I keep staring, watching her grow more on edge, more uneasy, and it hits me. Oh, hell no. “Are you a tweaker?” Her eyes slice to mine. “What?” “You heard me.” Her mouth is agape, but quickly twists in anger. “Are you freaking kidding me right now?” she hisses in a whisper. I lift my hands. “Look, I get you’re hired through the
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