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Furthermore, whenever we see each other, I promise not to kiss you.” “Thank you,” I say primly. He grins. “You’ll be the one to kiss me all on your own.”
He stops. Stares at me helplessly. “I am Mars, and there might be life on it. There could be. Thanks to you. I burn for you, Winnifred. And I’m tired of living in the cold. Come back to New York. Make the place livable. For both of us. Please.”