A big yellow school bus is parked on the road and people from the rafts that got here before us are already filing on board. Staff members stand in different locations instructing us where to drop our oars and life jackets, and telling the people who wore wet suits to keep them on until we return to the base.

I was not one of the people who opted to wear a wet suit. The last time I went rafting, it was earlier in the season and they were required. Now, I’m not ashamed of my body. Do I have some bumps and curves some people might have an issue with? Sure. But they don’t bother me. I enjoy eating and hate the gym, so it is what it is. However, no matter how confident I am with my body, there was not a chance in hell I was going to squeeze into a wet suit in front of Jasper—it’s like putting on Spanx, but a million times worse. I would’ve vetoed the entire excursion if they made me.

I thought because I wouldn’t have to flop around—my body completing head-to-toe jiggles—I was avoiding all issues pertaining to the body-ody-ody.

I thought wrong.

The problem is that while all the people in wet suits are still fully clothed as they board the bus, when Jasper took off his life jacket to place it in the proper pile, he also removed the wet tank top he had underneath it. So now he’s standing in front of me in nothing but his swim trunks and chest.

Just chest.

Everywhere.

And I’ve forgotten how to human properly because I can’t stop staring.

I knew he was in shape. He’s mentioned CrossFit enough for me to know he actually does it and it isn’t just a joke. But what I maybe wasn’t expecting was how his skin would glitter like the skin of some kind of tan vampire who feeds off the lust of people around him. I didn’t think he would have the perfect amount of chest hair—not too much that it’s a coat, but enough that I know he doesn’t wax—or that his abs would be rippling like he lives in the gym. You can tell he works out, but he likes beer and burgers. His body is hard and it’s soft.

It’s just like Jasper.

Perfect.

“Lunch was great and all, but I’m already starving again,” Jasper says, forcing my attention from his broad chest to his gorgeous face. His cheeks are red from time under the sun and his dark hair looks even darker now that it’s wet and curling at the ends. “What do you say we grab dinner before we head home?”

“Food sounds great.” But Jasper sounds better.