"It's making me blush," he said. "If this was the kind of reading I'd done in school, I would've been a more enthusiastic student." "It's utter trash," I said, grinning. "I adore it. Will you read to me?" If Owen hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now, cheeks rosy and hair rumpled, his shirt half undone to reveal those appealing dark curls on his chest. "I'm not a very good reader." "You have a nice voice.
