Bared to You [antikvár]

T A Te should head to a bar and celebrate." v v I wasn't surprised by my roommate's emphatic pronouncement. Cary Taylor found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I'd always considered it part of his charm. "I'm sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea." "Come on, Eva." Cary sat on our new living room floor amid half a dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We'd been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Cary was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn't been the dearest person on earth to me. "I'm not talking about a bender," he insisted. "Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight." "I don't know if I'll make it back in time." I gestured at my yoga