I was so caught up in him, I ran into a wall. Wait. Not a wall. Walls don’t wear suits. I looked up. ‘I’m so sorry –’ Clark Gable faded from...my mind. The guy in front of me wasn’t beautiful. He was rugged. I was a good five-foot-ten in my heels. He was an easy six-foot-six. His dark hair was mussed and wavy, and he had brown eyes, the exact color of brown sugar. His shoulders were incredibly broad, and his thick, short neck reminded me of Tom Hardy’s neck from Warrior. He had a heavy. Does he have problems, or is it just my imagination??Stephan looks at me with a little grin and a nod, ?We wondered when youwere going to ask. Thad and I have both noticed how he?s treating you.Except for that stupid leap at you earlier today, it?s been not reallybad, but barely civil. Let me explain some things which might help.?I take a breath, a little relieved in a way that what I was seeing wasthat obvious to the others, and concerned that there may be lots moreto this than I. More

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