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I take it back. The third worst thing is being cornered by Philly fans. Second worst thing is being saved by someone I hate. But the worst thing by far is realizing that for years I’ve thought the tension between Anton and me came from a place of resentment. It turns out it’s because I want to fuck Anton Hayes. I did not see that coming.
I am not this guy. I’m the fun-loving man-slut who doesn’t get worked up over anybody. One hookup, and I turn into this?
He cocks an eyebrow at me, and it’s like I can read his mind. You know exactly how to score on me. Ugh, is it possible for someone to be so cocky that their replies manifest themselves in your brain?
“I want to fuck this mouth.” His thumb moves across my lips. “Give me what I want.”
By the time I finally pull up at the hotel, I’ve made a decision. A decision that really shouldn’t have taken me five hours to come up with: I’ll wait and see what happens. I never claimed to be a genius.