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I was a big fan of Becker’s lips. I leaned further over into his driver’s seat, enjoying his soft, tender kisses. This was way better than what I’d been sharing with Conner.
Sure, with Conner there was a certain urgency, naughtiness about it. But this… this was sweet.
After another second, I slowly pulled away, looking into Becker’s soft brown eyes. He watched me, smiling. Then he exhaled and leaned back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head.
“Pretty sure that beats my miniature golf idea,” he said and laughed.
I was about to tease him for looking so proud of himself when I saw it. Conner—standing just across the street. He was in his driveway as Trish’s car backed out, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Becker and me.
And he looked pissed.