Page 24 of Dream Girl Drama

Nothing to cover his smooth slabs of muscle. Or the tattoos she’d never seen.

Or that black trail of hair under his navel.

One of the shirtsleeves got caught and he cursed, twisting the fabric to correct the angle, and everything flexed at once, including his eight-pack... and she dropped her book. Probably went through puberty a second time, too. Adult puberty. Oh no. No. This accidental flashing was taking place way too soon followingthe wake-me-up-properly incident. Her hormones were multiplying like rabbits. How was she supposed to learn how to operate a motor vehicle in this state? How was she supposed tobreathe?

Finally, he got his shirt down and continued his long-legged stride in her direction. “Hey, Chlo.” He hesitated in front of her, but after a brief check of the empty hallway, ultimately leaned down to kiss her cheek. Once. Twice. “Sorry, I tried not to keep you waiting too long.”

“It’s fine,” she said in a rush, goose bumps shivering down her back. “I’m reading.”

He looked down at her dropped book and raised an eyebrow.

“I got to a scary part,” she explained. “A jump scare. It flew right out of my hands.”

“I see.” He swiped a hand through his wet hair. “You ready for your driving lesson? We’re going to use the underground parking garage.”

“The one beneath the arena?”

“Yeah. It’s empty.” He ran a knuckle down her cheek. “No one for you to crash into.”

“Oh, really?” she deadpanned. “What about the walls?”

“They can rebuild those.”

Chloe broke into a laugh.

Sig’s gaze traveled from her mouth to her eyes. Back down. “Listen, about yesterday—”

“There she is,” said a voice behind Sig—one that caused him to roll his eyes. Corrigan.

And a second voice. “Stop trying to sneak her out of here before I get a chance to say hello.” Mailer.

Collectively known as the Rookies. Or theORGASM DONORS, according to the matching sweatshirts they often wore.

“Hey, Chloe,” Mailer said, drawing even with her and Sig, shoulder to shoulder with Corrigan. Both of them were... hot,frankly. Tall and stacked. Corrigan with his wild reddish-brown hair and beard, Mailer with his ice-blue eyes and shaved head. To put it simply, however, they paled in comparison to Sig. From her point of view, anyway. Someone else might disagree.

That someone would be wrong, but they were entitled to their opinion.

Chloe smiled. “Hey, guys.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Sig muttered.

“We don’t need encouragement,” Corrigan said, trying to slide in between her and Sig and getting an elbow to the chest for his effort. “Ow.”

“What brings you to practice, Chloe?” Mailer asked, watching Sig’s elbow out of the corner of his eyes, poised to block it. “Stop hiding your true feelings. You can tell them you came to watch me.”

“Actually, Sig is going to teach me how to drive.”

Corrigan did a double take. “You don’t know how todrive?”

“Do you like your nose where it is?” Sig snapped. “Because I’d be happy to relocate it for you.” He gave Chloe a reassuring look. “Plenty of people in Boston never learn how to drive. That’s what the trains and buses are for.”

“You’re not going to teach her in that old truck, though, right?” Corrigan asked, obviously placing very little value on his life.

That moment marked one of the two times she’d seen Sig look less than 100 percent confident and in charge of his surroundings. The other time had been at the country club. When they’d walked into the lounge together to charge his phone and he’d seen the luxury she took for granted.

“I love his truck,” Chloe blurted. “I never would have met Sig if it wasn’t for that truck.”

The Rookies exchanged a confused glance.

---