I haven’t stopped thinking about him in all the ways I shouldn’t. All damn day. Every goddamn day. His lips on my neck at Fenway. The almost kiss on my couch. The way he looked at me from only inches away. The way he ran to my apartment and stood beneath my window. My heart still flutters at that. I’ve tried to push it all back into safe, neutral territory. I genuinely have. It’s why I haven’t seen him all week outside of work. Because somewhere along the way, my thoughts of him shifted from friends to…more. To things like desire and lust and want and well, more. There is no calling this a
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