37
Sarah
“Oh my God! Quinn’s taking off his shirt!”
At Caroline’s excited prattle, I looked up from the supply list I was studying at the picnic table in Noel and Aspen’s backyard to find the guys on the lawn were starting a game of touch football, and they were dividing the teams shirts against skins.
Quinn had just gotten chosen to the skins’ side, where he was being forced to remove his T-shirt.
Next to me, Reese lifted her face only to spike her eyebrows high. “Oh,” she said, adding in a little hum of interest.
When Aspen twisted on the bench where she was sitting to check out the guys as well, Zoey made an exasperated sound in her throat. “Why is everyone staring at my husband?”
“Because Dr. Modest never removes clothing,” Reese murmured, going as far as to shade her eyes again
