She felt conscious of her nipples becoming visibly erect under the tight t-shirt and wished that she owned a thicker brassiere. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. He could not kiss Ruth. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn.
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