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"Don't bring the Bud Light into this."

"You said it."

He laughs and presses his lips to mine. "You thought it."

"No."

"Is that our first lie?"

"Really." I stand and stretch my arms over my head. "I'm not thinking anything."

"Forgot your own name?"

"And yours. Who are you, anyway?"

"Mister O."

"Oh my god." A laugh spills from my lips. "Are you always this cheesy?"

"Basically." He stands and pulls me into a hug. "Come on. You need to save yourself from my cooking skills."

"I eat grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. I'm a normal college student," I say. "Sorta."

"You don't cook?"

"Sometimes," I say. "Not often."

"Do you want to?"

"Now?" I move into his kitchen. It's nice. Modern. This entire place is nice. But then he didn't answer my question last time. How does he afford it?

I guess that's a little personal. Money is more taboo than anything in the US.

"No. I want to take a nap then go for round three," I say.

"Greedy."

"Always."

He smiles. "I don't have bread—"

"Of course you don't."

He raises a brow.

"You're very…" I motion to his biceps. His chiseled torso. "Ripped."

"Thank you." He laughs again. "That's not why."

"Sure it isn't."

"I don't eat it fast enough."

"Uh-huh."

"I have my own cheese delivery system," he says.

"Oh?"


Tags: Crystal Kaswell Romance