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... ind me.
I turned quickly, surprised.
She was standing barely ten feet away, leaning in the doorway of the adjacent room’s balcony. She was striking a woman in her late twenties, with smooth, olive-toned skin. Her hair was a wild mass of auburn curls, and her eyes, a sharp hazel, were fixed directly on the cigarette in my hand. Her gaze wasn’t shy at all.
I offered the pack. This was already starting to feel like a tutorial.
"Thanks," she murmured, stepping onto th ...
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