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“Then he peeled his shirt off and over his head. She did a double take. If she'd had a mouthful of water, it would've been a spit take. Leo was shirtless. She stopped moving. She couldn't tell if she was horrified or mesmerized by the sight of his abs, which looked like a waffle iron, minus the syrup. She'd imagined that underneath the starched and boring button-downs was a stack of white dinner plates in the shape of a human form. But there he was, half-naked and absolutely real.” — Erin La Rosa
Then he peeled his shirt off and over his head.
She did a double take. If she'd had a mouthful of water, it would've been a spit take. Leo was shirtless. She stopped moving. She couldn't tell if she was horrified or mesmerized by the sight of his abs, which looked like a waffle iron, minus the syrup. She'd imagined that underneath the starched and boring button-downs was a stack of white dinner plates in the shape of a human form.
But there he was, half-naked and absolutely real.