I flush from my forehead to my toes once I lift my eyes and find him watching me, a little slip of a smirk transforming his features into something devious. Like he knows something I don’t. Arching a brow in defiance, I mouth, “You are in trouble.” That smirk transforms into a smile that’s as close to shy as a guy like Brody is capable of, and then he’s mouthing two words back. “I’m sorry.”
