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“Oh,” Nate says, remembering something, “back on the dance floor you were pissed off about my ass slapping? You love when I slap your ass.”
“Just—” I sigh. “You know that Donovan Xander guy at uni?” Nate nods. “Spoke more than a handful of words to him, finally, and he wanted to take me to his room.” I explain our couch adventures, too.
Nate nods and looks down.
I get it, I do. It’s awkward talking about my …

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