The video cut to a close up of one of the mermen, and I nearly fell off my bed.
My mouth hung open as Wyatt Rhodes thrust against the air behind Tula.
My eyes were saucers as I scanned over the same muscles I had seen this afternoon in the store. Except these muscles moved under silver body paint, with decorative scales glued on.
Oh my god.
That merman was Wyatt. I was positive. It was his shaggy blonde hair slicked back and painted silver, his lean muscle, his lazy, confident, panty-melting grin.
I watched the video six times to be sure, alternating between cringing and snickering.
There was no way Avery knew about this. She knew I loved Europop, and she hadn’t mentioned this to me, which meant she didn’t know. Which meant Emmett didn’t know.
Which meant no one knew.
Huh.
My eyes
