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“Want a glass?”
“Please,” I said.
Fiona grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet and set them on the counter.
“I guess I just need a sign,” I said.
“A sign?” she asked, pouring two glasses of milk. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Just something that proves he’s as serious about me as I am about him.”
“And then you could relax and enjoy yourself?”
I nodded.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” she said. “But I know what the Rolling Stones would say.”
