Turning the corner to start my search, I stop dead in my tracks. Search over. Hunter is walking toward me wearing a red plaid shirt stretched tight across his chest with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, ax in hand. His jeans cling to defined thighs. His light brown hair is perfectly styled, even this late in the day. Am I drooling at the sight of my best friend? It feels like I’m drooling. I’ve seen Hunter like this countless times since we met. It’s what he always wears to work.
