The boathouse was a rotting wooden structure at the edge of the lake, the paint peeling, the roof sagging. It smelled of algae and old wood. Julian waited for me inside the shadows. As soon as I stepped through the door, he grabbed me, slamming me against the rough wood wall. "What are you doing?" I gasped, my heart racing. "They'll notice we're gone." "I don't care," he growled, his hands gripping my hips. "I couldn't stand it. Seeing you stand there, looking so... innocent. While I know exactly what’s under that sweater."
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