Earlier, I could tell that he was handsome, if out of place. Now I see that he’s unbearably hot—and also, somehow, intensely familiar. As if I’ve previously seen the way his forearms flex under his rolled-up shirtsleeves, and already know how a section of his dark hair falls, curling over one eye. As though I’ve already heard the deep rumble of his laugh. And felt the weight of his body pressing me up against a wall.
