“I think your abs will survive to see another day,” she gasps out from behind her hands. And then she clamps them down harder over her mouth, and her eyes bulge out of her head, like she can’t quite believe she just blurted that out. She looks mortified. And I can’t help it. I laugh. A genuine laugh. It erupts from me like an animal that’s been caged up for too long. Like a racehorse shooting out of the gate.
