In the elevator, Ronan hit the G for ground floor, and I hit twelve. “What are you doing?” he groused. “You’re three floors down, right? I’m going to your apartment.” The doors slid open on the twelfth floor, but Ronan’s arm shot out, barring my exit. He wasn’t as smart as he seemed to think because I ducked right under and made a run for it. He was on me in a second, snatching me off the ground and holding me dangling with my back against his chest and his mouth beside my ear. “You’re not going to my apartment. You’re going home.” “Really?” I turned my head so our faces were inches apart. “I
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