“When I opened the first wrong door, I should have left. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry for, you know, looking at… you, sir.” She huffs out a breath like she’s glad she’s done with that speech, and though I know I ought to leave it alone, I cannot help myself. I really can’t. “Jo Jo’s right, you know. You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’” Her tongue darts out, sweeping along the swell of her bottom lip, her eyes gravitating to my mouth for a split second. “I don’t even mean to. It just… comes out.”
