“Oh, come on, I may not have history with you, but here’s what I know from this weekend. When you’re nervous, you ramble.” I chuckle, snuggling closer as he speaks, even though my arms are folded against my chest. “And when you’re thinking, you’re quiet, you lock yourself away with your thoughts. But wild thoughts are always going on inside that mind of yours – they’re practically written all over your face.” “No, they aren’t.” He smirks. “You, cutie, are an open book.”
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