D.L. Darby
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A leggy woman wearing a glowing veil presses against Hunter’s chest as she snaps a selfie. At the pool tables, Wrenley and Hunter are now surrounded by another set of women. There’s no doubt in her gaze—only trust and acceptance. “Usually it’s the man saying that to the woman.” “Don’t be misogynistic, Hunter. She’s changed into a pair of flare jeans and a white crop top, hair piled messily on her head.