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“No disclaimers.” I winked, drinking more wine.

She nodded. “Right. Okay. What do you see in Karina that makes you go back to her?”

I sucked in a breath. “Way to be open-ended.” I paused, thinking over my answer. “Nothing,” I said. Eliza looked mildly annoyed, so I decided to press further with my next question. “Are you worried I’ll get back with her?”

She waited for several heartbeats before she let out a soft “yes.”

I kissed her, closing the distance between us so fast she let a small squeak of surprise. “Ask me if I’m going to,” I demanded.

“Are you going to leave me for her?” Her voice was not much more than a whisper.

“No.” I kissed her again. “Did you like what we did in the bed of my truck tonight?” I asked. There was that blush again.

“Yes. Did you?”

“Yes. Do you—”

“Hey!” she gave me a playful shove, her goofy humor restored again. “It’s my turn to ask.”

“You did.” I kissed her hands. “And I said yes, I did enjoy it. Very much.”

“Oh,” she chewed her lip. “Carry on then.”

I topped off our wine and took another sip. “Do you want to do more? At some point. I mean—shit, that’s not how I wanted that to come out. I am a gentleman.”I am an idiot.

She snorted at that and it was only then that I realized we were both more gone than I’m sure either of us realized.

“Yes,” she let the words come out almost like a groan. “But I don’t want to rush things. You know?”

I kissed her cheek and neck. “Whatever you want whenever you want.”

She moaned when I bit into the soft skin on her neck. “Can I stay here tonight? Just to sleep?”

“Yes,” I imitated her earlier groan. “Why do you wear those boots?”

“Pass.”

“Who hit you?”

“Pass. Try again.” She pulled away from me.

“Will you call me if ever you’re in trouble?”

She nodded. “Yes.” She leaned in, kissing me painfully slowly. She ran her fingers through my hair and I leaned into her touch. I wanted to be surrounded by her, always. “What do your parents think of me?” she whispered.

“Pass,” I said. It was just easier than being honest and telling her they thought she was simply a passing phase. A distraction. They were right about the latter. And I didn’t care.

“Alright.” She bit my neck where I’d bitten her. “Are you really going to go with me on that road trip?”

“Yes. Why can’t you leave the state?”

She opened her mouth like she was going to answer. I really thought she would. But all that came out was, “Pass.”

“You live with your grandparents, right? Where are your parents?”

“Dad is in prison. Meth dealer. You know how that goes.” She gave me an eye roll and drank the rest of her wine. “Mom’s somewhere in the wind. Haven’t seen her since I was twelve.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

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