“Four o’clock?” Ouelle giggled. “When’s the last time we stayed up that late?”
“I don’t know about you, but I do it all the time. I haven’t been sleeping much.”
She shook her head, curls bouncing. “No idea. I’m usually not much of a night owl.”
Ross chuckled, brushing her hair from her face. “You used to be. Why do you think I call you Owl?”
“I always thought it was because of my name.” She frowned. “It’s not?” She covered her mouth with her hands, suppressing her giggle.
“How often did we stay up all night talking? And you’d try so hard not to wake your father, you’d hold in the laughter, hooting like a little owl.” He teased her hands away from her mouth. “You’re doing it now. Some things will never change.”
“And some things do.” She traced his lips with her finger. “I am ever so…
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