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“I take the stairs two at a time.
“This is under lock and key,” he says as we crunch leaves en route to my car. “Don’t worry about me. Ever. Okay?”
He’s right beside me, by the car door. I pull the thing open. I turn toward to him—to say something—but no words come. Instead, my neck and face flush, and my legs feel cold and shaky. I sink into the driver’s seat and look up at him. He leans on the doorframe, looking down at me with moonlight pooled in his eyes. Time is moving fast and too slow all at once.
He leans in a little, but he doesn’t crouch down so we’re level.
“Thanks for meeting me here.” His mouth is a line, but he tucks the corners up a little for me. “Have a safe drive back.”
His hand moves toward me, like he’s going for a hand-shake. Instead, he clasps my shoulder—giving it a gentle squeeze.
Something shifts in my chest, like a ball starting to roll. I see my hand reach for him. See my fist grip his shirt. It rips as I pull him down to me.
I“hear myself say, “I lied.” Then our mouths meet.”
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