Page 104 of Finding Storm

He’s stripping off his jeans and T-shirt and boxer shorts—does he even wear boxer shorts? God, I hope so. I don’t think my heart will take it if he’s a commando kind of guy.

Focus, Stevie.

I take a deep breath, clear my mind, and set to the task of undressing myself. I kick off my shoes, push my shorts down over my hips, and shimmy them down my legs. I step out of them, kicking them aside. Then, I grab the hem of my T-shirt and pull it over my head. My hair’s still in its ponytail, but I decide to take it out for swimming. More so that I can cover my bare shoulders with my hair, use it as a bit of a shield. I pull the tie from my hair and let it fall down my shoulder. Putting the tie on my wrist, I run my fingers through my hair, tidying it up a bit.

“Turn around.” Storm’s gruff voice comes from behind me.

“What?” I say.

“I mean, you can turn around. I’m decent.”

I know you’re decent. That’s the fucking problem.

Swallowing down my nerves, I bend down and pick my clothes up from the floor, and then I turn around.

Sweet fucking Jesus.

Just abs. So many abs. And muscles. And tattoos. And smooth golden skin where there’re no tattoos. And just fucking hotness.

So much hotness.

If I died right now, I’d go happy as a pig in dirt.

“You look …” He blinks. Then, shakes his head. And blinks again.

I look, what?

Nice? Okay? Bad? Terrible?

WHAT?

“Pretty,” he says, voice still rough.

His eyes lift to mine. Heat unfurls low in my belly.

“So fucking pretty.”

He thinks I look pretty.

Of course, I go red. I can feel the heat spreading over my chest.

“You too. I mean, nice. Good. Not pretty. What’s the dude word for pretty? Handsome? Yeah, you look handsome.”

For. Fuck’s. Sake.

I’m just going to hurl myself in the water now and get it over with.

Dying of mortification, I busy myself with putting my clothes on the chair.

When I straighten up, Storm is watching me. And he doesn’t bother to hide the fact.

I swallow down. “Shall we go in the water?” Could I be any more awkward right now?

“Sure.”

“Jump in?” I suggest.

“Together?” He holds his hand out to me.