Jimmy sat miming lyrics to old songs under his breath.
I need to tell you... something.
Like what?
He clutched onto the mug with both hands and leaned back, crooning his head forward.
Go on.
He shrugged.
Well say it.
I'm not sure you would understand.
You won't know if you don't tell me.
In the way he was now sitting, and as he turned his head to focus those dark eyes, he looked like a teenager.
You sure you want to know?
Of course.
He took on a crooked smile, worked his body up, looked back at the mug and then back at her.
Tell me!
He downed the coffee. It took longer than it should have. His Adam’s apple plummeted with each, loud, extended gulp.
Her eyes burned wide.
He snaked his face in closer to hers, slipped past and, with eyes still trained on hers, he whispered three words.
She should have slapped him.
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