" What? You seriously don’t believe me? ” He pulled halfheartedly at his shirt so she could catch a glimpse of a perfectly flat, washboard stomach. “Want to give it a fist tap? It’s solid.”
“No! No. And no!!” She gasped. “Oh. My. God! Keep that shirt down. OHMYGOD.” She choked out an embarrassed sounding laugh. "

― Anne Eliot , Unmaking Hunter Kennedy