Something about the way Isabel was crouched reminded Mira of a big cat, too: languid, powerful, not entirely domesticated. Dangerous in the right circumstances, like she’d been to Dylan and his friends. Her strong thighs were straining against her jeans—Mira had seen them bare the other night. Before that, she hadn’t thought much about what a decade of physical labor would look like on a woman’s body.
I love this comparison and the oogling omggmgomg
