The sleeves are rolled to his forearms.
And—holy shit, that’s hot—apparently forearms are a thing now.
Who knew?
Certainly not me.
Definitely not me.
His close cropped, dark hair is slightly damp. Like he showered recently.
His jaw is freshly shaven.
And when he smiles?
Well.
Let’s just say I freeze like a deer in headlights because, wow, that smile is really something else.
It’s going to be a long night.
Eight
Mary
“Hi.”
Fantastic.
One word.
Excellent conversational skills, Mary.
His grin widens.
“That's it?”
“What?”
“Just hi?”
I clear my throat.
“Hi is a commonly accepted and customary greeting. What were you expecting—a parade?”
“Not a parade, but come on, I put this on for you,” he says, and looks down at himself, shrugging one shoulder.
I fight my grin.
Is he fishing for compliments?
“Well, um, Kai, you clean up nice.”
Why would I say that?
Why?
But when I look at him, preparing for disdain, I’m shocked to see Kai looks ridiculously pleased.