Colton joined our huddle. He was equally hot, but in a very different way. Where Gabriel was all smooth sophistication, Colton was all about power, his muscles stretching out the shoulders and chest of his red plaid shirt, and there was a brutish, primal authority about him. Danny had told me about the Colton Fan Club and I could believe it. “I’m in for twenty dollars on Josiah Dallas,” Colton told me. “So come on, spill!”

I opened my mouth…and then saw JD watching me from across the room. I know how he feels about his name: there’s a reason he always introduces himself as JD. “Sorry. It’s a secret.”

Gabriel and Colton grumbled. Behind them, I saw Kian glance at the clock. They’re about to head out! “Hey, have you seen Danny?” I asked urgently.

“He was lifting weights,” said Colton. “He’s probably taking a shower.”

I thanked him and hurried off in the direction he pointed. When I heard the sound of water running, I homed in on it. There was an open doorway up ahead and I could glimpse tiles inside.

I peeked around the door uncertainly. I could see lockers and showers, but no Danny. Should I call out? I opened my mouth—

Danny suddenly strode into view from behind the row of lockers. He was topless, a towel around his waist, and….

He looked like he’d been chiseled out of a block of marble by a master sculptor. His abs were gorgeous hard ridges with softly rounded ends, like the feathers on an angel’s wing, and they shone with little jewels of water. Higher up, his body widened and flowed into full, wide pecs that made me think of a heavyweight boxer, loaded with brute power. There was that special spot, the one I’d fantasized about, where my cheek would rest against his pec. it looked even better, without the shirt. Above that, his body widened again to broad shoulders, the smooth spheres of muscle gleaming wetly. Then the bulges of his biceps, huge and solid: I hadn’t realized how big he was, under his suit. His forearms were thickly-muscled, too, and like his biceps, they were completely free of tattoos. In fact, I couldn’t see a single tattoo anywhere on his body, which only made him look more like some classical work of art.

Then he turned and my chest tightened in pain.

His back should have been as breathtakingly perfect as his front: the tight waist, the broad, strong lats, the spheres of his shoulders…. But someone had destroyed it.