What? You seriously don’t believe me? ” He pulled halfheartedly at his shirt so she could catch a glimpse of a perfectly flat, washboard stomach. “Want to give it a fist tap? It’s solid.”“No! No. And no!!” She gasped. “Oh. My. God! Keep that shirt down. OHMYGOD.” She choked out an embarrassed sounding laugh.
-Anne Eliot
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