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Chapter 6: Anger and Arousal
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Chapter 8: Old Flame
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... keep thinking about Matthew's hands on Lola's body. My fingers clench in my lap, nails biting into my palms. I don't know how I controlled myself from hitting him and then her.
Matthew sits beside me, a statue carved from ice and stone. The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. I want to scream, to shatter this brittle quiet, but the words catch in my throat.
"Nice turtleneck." Matthew's mocking voice breaks the silence. "Did you borrow that from your grandma's gr ...
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