Desiree

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I stared at the boy I’d once loved with every ounce of my being. “Love,” he whispered. “Still love. There is no past tense with us, Rinny.” No past tense. So the fates seemed to have decided. I squeezed his hand. He’d rescued me. He was inside my head somehow. Just. . .how? “Magic.”
Ashes (The Boys of Chapel Crest, #2)
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