Colton downed the rest of his beer, holding Nick’s gaze. He dropped the bottle on the table, cleared his throat, and held out his hand. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Fuck ’em.” “Colton, I don’t want—” Colton waggled his hand in front of Nick. “Fuck the haters. It’s just for fun. And I’ve got my fifth-grade reputation to uphold.” Nick laughed again and took Colton’s hand, letting the younger man lead him to the dance floor.
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