“If you want to put this on, you can,” he said, offering his red flannel. “It’ll feel cooler than your sweater.” “Thank you,” I said, accepting it. I moved to the front of the truck and changed, the slight breeze tickling my skin. When I buttoned the flannel together, the hem fell past my thighs. I walked back around the truck, folding the sleeves so they wouldn’t hang over my hands. I finished and looked up, catching Brooks watching me, his mouth slightly open. It grew into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the side. “That’s it. That’s your best look.”
