20
HARPER
I took in the dark scruff on his jaw, the curved muscles of his defined shoulders beneath his T-shirt, the broad chest, narrow waist. He wore dark gym shorts and running shoes. He wasn’t sweaty like after a workout; his clean scent was heady. So was the intense promise in his eyes. I put my hands on his arms, felt the bulging muscles of his biceps, slid them down over the corded forearms to link my fingers with his.
I was riled, tense, angry. Reed had made me talk, forced me to tell him the truth. All of it. And yet, he was still here. He was strong. Strong enough for both of us. And yet, he lifted our linked hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over my knuckles. I felt it, like a jolt of sizzling electricity throughout my body. Strong yet gentle. He was unlike anyone I’d ever
