Gatsby drifted a little closer, setting one hand on the stone beside my thigh. “Listen,” he said softly. “They adore you. I want to adore you too.” “There’s nothing stopping you,” I said, shoving down off the stone. It put me closer to him than ever, and this close, it was impossible to ignore my attraction to him, the way he could drink all the light out of the room and present it to you as if it was a special gift, his to give. “You could make it easier for me,” Gatsby said with mock exasperation concealing real exasperation. “I could,” I said. “I might. But you do come off awful strong, you
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