It was my job. She raised her head enough to say, I don't want to go to bed every night and wake up every morning with him. Jean-Claude grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled my head back, and kissed me. I frowned up at him.
I touched his arm, tentatively, gently. But Clay told us it would be alright, the redhead said, and I assumed it was Maria. Why do I even bother? Arguing with me, I said. We're on her dime right now.
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