“This past week, the only thing that kept me going was knowing I was coming to see you,” I tell him softly. “Our crazy time difference, the travel schedule.” I put one of my hands on his chest, my palm opening flat, the beating of his heart thumping against it. “I knew that come Friday I would be with you.” I take a deep breath, and I really wish I had a couple of shots of tequila before doing this. “I didn’t care where I was going to stay, and I didn’t care what I was going to wear. The only thing I cared about was seeing you.” I say the next part almost in a whisper. “The only thing I cared
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