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... barely audible over the hum of the motel’s old air conditioner. I couldn’t see her—she was behind me, and Claire’s body was pressed against my front—but I didn’t need to. The way Claire’s breath hitched, the way her eyes widened just slightly, the flush creeping up her neck—it told me everything.

Yelena moved, the mattress dipping as she settled in beside me, her bare skin brushing against my back. The heat of her radiated through the thin fabric of my shirt, her breath shallow, uneven. ...

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