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I want to do distinctly ungentlemanly things to Summer Hamilton. But I also want her to warm her cold feet up on me again. Anytime she wants. The thought of her being cold and uncomfortable infuriates me. I want to take care of her, even though she doesn’t need taking care of.
“You know what I’m sick of, Summer?” His hand comes to my throat, fluttering over the skin so gently that I arch toward him to increase the pressure. “What’s that?” “Having you think I’m out fucking everything that moves when I’ve looked at nothing and no one since the first day I laid eyes on you. I stepped into that godforsaken boardroom, and you practically demanded I become obsessed with you.”
I’m an absolute goner for this girl, and I never even saw her coming.
I’m hit with a realization that sends me reeling. Summer wasn’t just made for me. She’s it for me.
Seeing her happy is everything. And I’m happy too, because I get to be stuck in her orbit for the rest of my life.