“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t see you,” one of TJ’s teammates, Wyatt, says, though it seems like he’s far from apologetic as his eyes drop down to my chest and linger there. “If it makes you feel better, you look really goo—” He snaps his mouth shut and stares at me remorsefully. TJ stands next to me, cocking a brow, staring at him with a blank expression. “You were saying?” “That I should be getting her some paper towels. I’ll be back.” He quickly scurries off.
