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Summary
So there he was, at his younger sister’s door, hanging his leather jacket on the coat rack and looking at the last two pairs of shoes in the endless row by the door: hers and the ones that probably belonged to her date that evening. Colin felt his blood boil every time she went on a date. At first, it was strange to admit, but he got used to the fact that he was jealous. His body literally burned every time she brought a date to one of their evenings at the pub, or one of their evenings like this one.