" Okay,” he says before setting his hand on mine. He weaves his fingers in between my own and I swear I just swallowed a drummer with the way my heart pounds in my throat. I steal a glance at him, and he looks like he’s about to sweat a waterfall. “I-I’ll shift, you just worry about the clutch.” He gulps and his grip tightens on my hand.
If he thinks this is less distracting, he’s dead wrong. "
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