Svelte.
Very well maintained.
Water droplets trace paths down his chest. My brain shorts out for a second.
I shouldn’t even be noticing this … this shirtless, dripping man. And the sight of him definitely shouldn’t make my stomach feel like it’s packed with obnoxiously fluttering butterflies.
“Uh, this isn’t exactly clothing optional,” I say, my voice an octave higher than usual, my cheeks flushing like I just stepped out of a sauna.
Ollie looks at me with a V between his brows. “I forgot my bag when I went into the shower. You okay? Never seen a shirtless guy before?”
I roll my eyes. “We didn’t all spend years in locker rooms, bro.” I throw his hoodie at him. “Put some clothes on.”
“Or you could stop staring,” he says, not quite hiding a smirk.
I grab my bag and roll it into the bathroom. “You’re literally shirtless. It’s kind of hard to miss.”
I slam the door, and I hear his dry voice call, “So you already miss it?”
“Not even!” I say through the closed door.
“You liked it!”
I take a cold shower, not because I’m thinking about his abs—I’M NOT—but because he makes me so angry, I’m boiling.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FLETCH
Poppy Lewis doesn’t like my shirtless body?
Wait ’til you get in bed, Toots.
I sit on the queen-sized bed and look over my exchange with Grace. Stew over the way she logged off so abruptly.
Why did she have to bring up meeting in real life?
And why don’t I want to?
Who could be happy with only having an online relationship with someone as compassionate and interesting and beautiful as she is? I know she’s beautiful because of the Crypto King series. The guy was a charmer and used pickup lines on the hottest women in bars. He targeted the ones who turned him down.
Some of the people on the forum were talking about how good the pickup lines were, and Grace disagreed. “His lines aren’t that original. I’ve heard tons of them.”
And then she quickly added, “Not because I’m hot—the lines are just that basic.”
Except they weren’t that basic. I’d never had the nerve to use any of them, even when I was still playing ball. The fact that Grace had heard so many of them was a dead giveaway: she’s hot.
Yet she downplayed her experiences, so that tells me she’s not social media, “look at me” hot, but pretty. Beautiful.
And I wonder if she has a cute nose.
I put my phone in Do Not Disturb mode and set it face down on the end table, steam bubbling in my chest. I can’t be thinking about Grace all night, wondering if she’s going to give me a proper sign-off and tell me to double lock my doors or not pick up hitchhikers.
Granted, I never gave her my sign-off, either. The steam in my chest starts to pour out to the rest of my body, dispersing the pressure enough for me to act.
I shoot off a quick message to Grace.
