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... it was dark, someone knocked at the door.

Irish mistook it for her aunt, who came to nag her. She didn't want to open the door, only to see that it was Jordan standing at the door.

He leaned against the doorframe, wore a black leather jacket with a white T-shirt inside, still a pair of old jeans, Martin's boots, a dark blue college bag, short hair, handsome sunglasses, chewing gum in his mouth, and waved at her as she opened the door. "Hey, lady," he greeted her. "Are you good?" ...

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