Another type of warmth, one that had nothing to do with arousal, pooled in my stomach. “Is that what you’re trying to do? Woo me?” “Depends.” A smile played on his lips. “Is it working?” Yes. “No.” “Liar.” “A suitor shouldn’t call the object of his wooing a liar. It’s poor etiquette.” “I’m honest when the situation calls for it, and you’d die of boredom if someone simply agreed with everything you said and did.” His pinky, still hooked around mine, curled just a bit tighter. I wished I minded. “You think you know me so well,” I whispered, even though he was right. “Only parts of you.” The
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