Chapter 7When it’s time for Moss to come pick me up for our dinner thing at Anne’s, I’m inexplicably nervous. I don’t know why; I have no reason to be. They’ve met before—albeit years ago—and got along swimmingly, so why is my belly full of butterflies, to borrow a tired expression?
I haven’t figured out the answer by the time Moss arrives.
The sight of him makes me want to fall to my knees and worship the ground he walks on. He’s wearing a black V-neck sweater that nicely shows off his wide shoulders and stomach, with a green shirt underneath. But it’s the jeans that steal all my attention. Pitch black and tight, they hug every muscle and line and the bulge. Oh, the bulge! The entire ensemble is finished off with a pair of chunky boots on his big feet, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fain
