Page 42 of Finding Storm

And clearly, I need to get laid.

For a moment, I don’t think he’ll pick the butt up.

But then he does. He bends that ripped chest forward and leans down and picks it up.

I feel a flash of heat between my legs at the sight of him down there.

Yep. Definitely need some sex. Or alone time with my vibrator.

Straightening up, Hottie holds the butt between his thumb and finger. “So, what’s the responsible way to dispose of it?” he asks, that damn eyebrow quirked up again.

And shit.

I don’t remember that part of the article. I can remember statistics and figures. But not how to deal with the actual problem.

This is me all over.

And now, I have to come up with something at least believable; otherwise, I’m going to look like a dick.

“Well, um …” I unfold my arms and then don’t know what to do with them, so I place my hands back on my hips. “I’m … not one hundred percent sure, but I’d say putting it in the trash rather than on the ground would be a good way to start.”

There, that’ll do. It was a good solution.

He glances around. “There are no trash cans around here.”

Oh. For fuck’s sake.

“Give it to me.” I stick my hand out, palm up.

Hottie glances down at my hand. Then, he smiles. For real. Teeth and all.

And of course, he has a set of straight, well-proportioned, perfectly white teeth.

My teeth are straight, but I had to wear braces for years to get them like this. He probably came out of the womb with those teeth. Which would be weird.

I’m weird.

I just asked this guy to put his used cigarette butt in my hand. What was I thinking? Then again, I did have the same hand down a toilet only half an hour ago.

How was I raised by such a classy, stylish woman as Gran?

“You sure?” he asks, still smiling, a look of is this chick for real on his face.

I want to say no, but I can’t exactly back out now after the fuss I made.

No matter how gross this is.

And it is gross. So fucking gross.

I wiggle my fingers at him, hurrying him to get this over and done with.

He places the butt in the center of my palm.

Ew.

I’m gonna vom.

I have nicotine, God knows what other chemicals, and a complete stranger’s saliva on my hand.