16
Brooke
“Why do you keep looking at me?” Luca asked. “Do I have something on my shirt?”
“That’s not a shirt.”
Monday morning, and he was back in a tank top again. Today’s was white and possibly tighter than yesterday’s. Muscles rippled in his back as he stretched as far as he could reach from the ladder to paint the next strip of wall.
Now he looked puzzled. “Yeah, it’s a shirt.”
“A shirt has sleeves. Usually buttons too.”
“This is what I wear in the gym, and it counts as a shirt under army rules. No shoes, no shirt, no training session.”
“Well, this isn’t a gym and it isn’t the army, so their rules are invalid.”
Luca placed his roller in the tray and turned to eyeball me.
“Why? Are you distracted again?”
Maybe a tiny bit. The glint in Luca’s eye said he knew exactly what I me
