“Clothes are flying left and right in my room, trying to find the perfect outfit. I settle on a cute black swing dress with a dark red floral pattern. It laces up the front, like a corset, with black satin ribbon and has black lace trim around the edge of the swishy circular skirt. My stomach is in knots as I stand in front of the door to his study. I’m going to count to ten and then walk in. Okay, I take a deep breath and exhale loudly. “You know, it helps if you use your hand to turn t...he knob. As far as I know, telekinesis doesn’t work.” He’s standing right behind me. Turn around Gina, turn around Gina, turn arou- “eeep!” Peter swings me around in a spin, dips me, and simply says, “Hey.” For a poet, he’s a man of few words this morning. He smiles, and all traces of my nerves dissolve. “Hey.” He straightens us up and opens the door to the study, letting me go in first.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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