“Mason.” Ignoring me—if he even heard me—he reaches up and brushes his fingertips over Jeremy’s pale, smooth jaw, in a feather-light touch. Jeremy’s eyes flash with something I can’t name as his fingers twitch against Mason’s hairline, and I don’t know who’s tenser—me, or the guy who currently has his dead twin sister’s boyfriend’s hand shakily cupping his face. I watch with bile burning in my throat as Jeremy slowly drops his gaze to collide with Mason’s. Mason, of all fucking people. The guy who loved Izzy—Jeremy’s literal other fucking half—more than anyone and anything in this fucking
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