Ashleigh

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I’m up the steps, my hand planted on the handle when hers flies out to cover mine, the heat of her palm freezing me on the spot. My eyes slice to hers. The muscles in my stomach coil over, and my arms stiffen around her. She stares up at me, eyes a darkened, tortured turquoise, silently begging me to let go, turn the fuck around and walk back down.
Break Me (Brayshaw, #5)
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