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She looks at me, then Violet, then back to me. “You’re dating my sister.”

“Yes?”

“She stalked you for months.”

I sigh. “Fair point.”

I used to want normal.

Turns out, normal is overrated.

Two hours later,I think we’re done.

I’m wrong.

A low rumble comes from outside.

I frown. “What is that?”

Violet’s expression doesn’t change, which immediately makes me suspicious.

“Violet.”

“Yes?”

“What is that?”

“My motorcycle.”

I blink. “Your what?”

“My motorcycle.” She says it calmly, like she just told me she owns a toaster.

I follow her outside.

A sleek black motorcycle is sitting in the driveway.

Callie climbs off it.

My brain immediately stops working. “You have a motorcycle.”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

She shrugs. “I’ve had it for years.”

Something about the way she says it makes my stomach tighten. “Violet.”

She looks at me innocently.

“Why do I feel like there’s more to this?”

“Because you know me.”

Oh no.

I brace myself for whatever she’s about to say.