My heart fucking stops when I see who is walking at his side. Dressed in a Rays tech shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, Henrik Karlsson looks every inch as beautiful as the first time I saw him. He’s fucking magnetic, with those navy-blue eyes and the soft sweep of sandy-blond hair over his brow. His beard is shorter now, little more than stubble. God, he looks so fucking good. I swallow, trying to stifle the annoying fluttering that’s currently happening in my chest. This is so embarrassing. It’s been six years. And it’s not like we were ever . . . anything. That’s the worst part about all
...more
