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Chris pushes off the ay fro his shirt over his head And oh, oh yes, his abs are rippling perfection I kneas good looking, I kneas athletic, but every inch of hiular hours in the gyht shoulder down his arered to see on is majestic, etched with such detail and skill, he could have drawn it himself

"Do I pass inspection?" he asks softly

I reach out to touch the design on his arm, only to have hi at et that pizza"

He steps closer and pulls his shirt overto it andit were hi you pass out on aze to his "Noe’re both half-dressed" He lowers his voice, and adds, "On an equal playing field"

Equal It is the last thing I expect from a man who’d completely do, not giving How can he do both? Who have I ever knoho could?

"Equal would ainst theand forbid you toyou"

His eyes darken, shadoireen eyes "If I thought you were ready for where that will lead, I’d let you"

Let me? He’d let me? "What does that even mean, Chris?"

He reaches up and strokes entle, but there is a barely contained edge beneath his surface I’ to know "There is so much I could show you, Sara, but I’m not ready for you to run away" There is a sense of inevitable regret to his words

I react to a sense of hi--it claws at rab his arm and step closer "Who says I’ll run away?"

"You will," he says

Does he think I can’t handle ht? I need the escape "You’re wrong"

He shakes his head "No I’s fro tone is a concert pianist and I’d be willing to bet my car that his father is the otten into one, he holds his in high regard

Chris slides the phone fro jeans and I’m fairly certain he chooses to answer the call to end our conversation

"Right," he says "My usual and hold tight just a sec" He glances at me "What kind of pizza?"

The pizza place called hie," he says into the phone "Right Thanks" He ends the call "Pizza is on the way"

"That’s what I call service"