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Being at different colleges, miles apart, meant that they’d likely be too busy for each other. An unstoppable force tearing them apart. But he could hold on for now.
“Okay,” Stiles shakily answered, clearing his throat before continuing, “I’ll go with you after the game.”
The corners of Derek’s lips started to turn up into a small but hopeful smile.
It was different from the smile Derek did for football. It was always more personal—genuine—when he looked at Stiles.
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