“Um,” I say, feeling utterly awkward as I look between Ben’s slack jaw and Jesse’s appalled expression. I am suddenly very, very aware of Jackson’s forearm tucked neatly below my ass, holding me up against him, and the way that my leg intuitively curled itself over his hip, like it belongs there.
Ben’s mouth drops open further as he realizes that this is not a mistake – that I’m not fighting Jackson, demanding that he put me down.
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