Rosie and the Dreamboat (The Improbable Meet-Cute, #3)

by Sally Thorne

“She’s my bravest little clamshell trooper this side of the city.”

The metal is a conduit, allowing his electric laugh to pass through into the water, my skin, and my bones. There are those colors again—swirling and oozing, iridescent in the dark.

I’m losing touch with the world outside his voice. What life was like with light and sound and the weight of my own body. Will I ever be dry again? And why does my heart feel like a baby bird in my chest?