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... The steam clung to my skin as I dragged the towel over my hair, water dripping down my shoulders, leaving little trails on the floor.
A chime broke the silence. My phone lit up on the lampstand. I reached for it, but before my fingers touched the screen, a smaller hand slid in, blocking mine.
Carmela.
She gave me that sly smile of hers, the one that always carried something sharp behind it, then leaned in to press her lips against mine. “Let me take care of your messages, ...
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