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Eyes on the prize, not on her thighs.
“First you steal my ring, then you poison my coffee. Now you try to decapitate me. I’m starting to think you’re an assassin, Raegan.” “I was just hoping you’d wake up with amnesia.” He chuckles. “Forget you? Not a chance.”
Why don’t we ever run into our exes when we have our hair and make-up done? It’s like one of the laws of physics: An object that looks like trash shall run into everyone she knows while she looks like trash.
