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“He dropped back into the couch cushions, stroking the condensation dripping off his glass. "You're in a pickle." "You want one?" Her eyebrows perked up, though her eyes weren't tracking well. "I think I have a jar in the fridge.” — Kristin Miller
He dropped back into the couch cushions, stroking the condensation dripping off his glass. "You're in a pickle."
"You want one?" Her eyebrows perked up, though her eyes weren't tracking well. "I think I have a jar in the fridge.