Her gaze drops to watch the movement, skimming along my body and resting on where my gun is on display, holstered at my side. I repeat the motion of rolling up my other shirtsleeve until both my forearms are exposed, and then I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. A lock of my hair falls on my forehead with the motion, and I run my fingers through the strands, pushing it back into place. Then I quirk a brow at her.
