No one responds, and Taylor exhales sharply before reaching up to take off his hat and run a hand through his hair. The action causes his jacket to ride up, revealing a smooth patch of pale skin above the waistband of his jeans. I catch a muscled V and a dark trail of hair leading down before he lowers his arms again. “I’m going to load up my bike,” he mutters, turning toward the door. His hand closes around the handle before he glances back at me over his shoulder, meeting my baffled gaze. “It was nice seeing you, Huck. You look good.” And with that, he’s gone. What the hell? You look good?
