Page 34 of Hot Girl Summer

“Are you okay? You’re soaked.”

He looks at his chest and shrugs. “It’ll dry.

He eyes my dress, which is arguably more wet than his shirt. “I think I have a spare t-shirt in the car. You want it?”

Would it be weird to say yes? My better judgement politely declines the offer. “As much as I’d love to see you take the shirt off your back for little old me, I think I’ll pass.”

“You snooze, you lose, princess. Care to join me, anyway?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, hold on a sec.”

He approaches Ollie—who has taken up residence beside April—and leans into his ear. In the darkness and over the music, I can’t hear nor lip read. Ollie takes the lanyard from around his neck, and hands it to his bandmate, then I follow Danny towards the exit.

Outside, it’s dark and cloudy, and the waning crescent moon is barely visible. Despite the drop in temperature, the weather is still warm. I shiver as my damp dress clings to my chest and thighs. In hindsight, my proverbial cold shower is what I needed to keep my Danny fantasies in check. I don’t need another fuckboy to distract me from my goals.

“Here, put this on,” Danny says, handing me the lanyard.

I inspect it, then place it around my neck. “What’s this?”

“Backstage pass. You don’t want to miss the epic finale.” He pauses, then points across the road. “My car’s just over there.”

“You picked a good spot for people watching,” I say, referring to the empty volleyball courts as we cross the quiet street.

He clicks the key and opens the boot, then pulls a tennis shirt from his gym bag. “Are you sure you don’t want my spare?” he asks, offering it to me.

I consider wearing it for a moment, but then I question whether I’d be able to contain myself if his shirt carried that delectable scent. “I doubt that would cover my butt.”

Danny leans across to openly check out my ass. “Hmm, that could be distracting. Although you’re doing a pretty good job of it in that dress.

My cheeks flush, and I’m mad at myself for secretly liking his obvious display of perversion. His fingers find the hem of his shirt, and as he lifts it, I catch myself staring at the lean contour of his abs, and the happy trail extending to the waistband of his jeans. When he stops, so do I.

“Can a guy get some privacy?”

“Says the guy who was checking me out less than a minute ago?”

“I’m only messing.” He tosses me the keys. “Here, go wild.”

Sinking into the leather passenger seat of the Audi, I sneak a glance at the wing mirror. Everything is telling me not to look, but curiosity gets the better of me. One little peek couldn’t hurt, right?

He peels off his shirt, balls it up, and tosses it into the boot, a strange move for someone who outwardly seems so uptight and straight-laced. Maybe Danny has his own alter ego.

Taut abs, strong shoulders and a lean, athletic torso are a welcoming, albeit unexpected, sight. I’m pleasantly surprised. He’s completely cut and his physique is nothing like I’d imagined.

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be looking. It’s self-sabotage at it’s finest. But I wouldn’t have been satisfied with the small glimpse of skin which was thrust upon me. I have every right to live out one of my perverted fantasies.

Leaning over to the driver’s side, I start the engine, and turn up the radio to distract myself from the glorious view. As I wait, I fiddle with the controls and crank up the heating in an attempt to dry out my dress.

“Are you cold? Want me to warm your seat up?” he asks, climbing into the driver’s side.

I shake my head, then glance around the interior. “You know, this car’s kind of grown on me.”

“See? It’s not all bad.” He sobers. “How’s your sister doing?”

“Better than I expected, if I’m honest.”

“That’s good. It helps to be positive.” He smiles warmly, holding my gaze. My tummy rumbles, and I instinctively place a hand there. “So, how about that breakfast?”

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