James Derulo's

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The Bookstore, Ch. 1

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She thought, for perhaps the tenth time since getting into the car, Just play it cool, but the more she admonished herself to act natural, the more self-conscious she got. When she parked her car at the bookstore and got out, she looked like any other undergrad with her backpack, jeans, and flip flops, bent on a night of study at the Barnes & Noble. No one had any reason to look at her-but

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