“I would, but then it will block the view of the goods you can’t seem to get enough of,” he says, adding a wink.
It’s the wink that’s my undoing. Okay, that and those broad shoulders, and strong jaw, and Channing Tatum-esque face. Who am I kidding? It’s the whole package. This man is what some might call more than a little attractive.
“I . . .” It’s the only thing I manage to say. By now, it’s obvious I’m gawking at him.
“Look, gorgeous,” he says. “I’ve had a long night. Either leave your brochures and get going, or give me a reason to let you inside.”
My jaw pops open when I realize he’s mistaken me for a Jehovah’s Witness—and a slutty one at that! Maybe Tamira had a point about me wearing “church” clothes. “I don’t have brochures,” I stammer.
“Good, don’t read that shit anyway?”
“My name is Adrianna Daniels. I’m the guidance counselor at Apollo and Gianno’s school . . .”