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... the headrest. My eyes are squeezed shut, but it doesn’t help.

The image is burned behind my eyelids—the nurse’s wide eyes, her shocked face, the door closing on her hasty retreat.

God. What is she thinking right now?

What does she think we were doing?

My cheeks are still burning. I take a slow, deep breath, trying to will the embarrassment away.

Then, warmth.

A soft, warm breath brushes my cheek, then my jaw.

My eyes fly open.

Moon ...

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