I jerk back, nearly running into a stunned Rory behind me. Not gonna lie. The guy’s built like a god. Broad shoulders. Strong arms. A black shirt hugs his biceps, and light reflects off his warm, coffee-colored eyes and tan skin. Did my tongue just grow three times its original size? I think—yup—it totally did. He’s…well, he appears to be a surfer-boy with a side of bad decisions, and the tattoos etched onto his forearm are enough to make a girl like me fall to my knees and worship the bastard right here, right now.
