He keeps having to coach himself not to just come in his jeans. That would be really embarrassing and Eddie would rather walk around with a hardon that come in his jeans and have to leave with a giant wet spot.

"Holy shit," he breathes. He's no longer thinking about how this might ruin his friendship with Alex -- he's pretty sure it won't -- or anything else. Just her skin, the tattoos, the way her body moves. He might be dead.