“Here you go, Nerdlet,” I say, setting his down in front of him. He frowns up at me. “Do you remember my name?” he asks suspiciously. “Elijah,” I purr, the alcohol in my system unleashing my flirty side with full force. But I refuse to acknowledge the way his name rolls off my tongue or how cute he is when his cheeks pink. “Oh,” he says a little shyly, reaching for his food and digging in without another word.
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