“It’s just…” I sat back in my seat and clutched the steering wheel in my hands as I closed my eyes. “If I’m thinking about you and this stupid bet, it gives me less time to think about me and the shitstorm that is my life.” “Same,” she confessed. When I opened my eyes, her head was tilted my way. Those deep brown eyes burned holes into my soul with such ease. Her eyes were my favorite part of her, too. They told full-length stories without any words. That was my favorite part of watching her perform on stage. Her eyes always showed the truest forms of her emotions, and that night, they were
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