Summer’s PovI woke up at six-fifty AM, stared at my ceiling for four full minutes, and then made the mistake of thinking about it.The hand on my waist. The thumb on my chin. Those blue eyes, too close, too sharp, doing absolutely nothing to deserve the way my heart had completely lost its mind.I sat up and pressed both palms against my face.*Get it together, Summer.*He said thank you. That was it. That was the whole thing. People say thank you every single day without tilting anyone's chin up like they're about to — like they want to —I got out of bed before my brain could finish that sentence.By the time I'd showered and gotten dressed, I had successfully convinced myself that last night meant nothing. Crew Ashford meant nothing. He was a bully with good bone structure and a chemistry exam, and I was a girl who needed to get to school on time.I grabbed my bag. Opened my bedroom door.He was leaning against the wall directly across from my room, already dressed, keys in hand,
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