“I was really trying to get in your pants. You know that, right?” Brodie replied.
“I had that figured out, yeah.”
“That subtle, was I?”
“As a train wreck, Brodie.”
“If you hadn’t been with Ben, would I have had a chance?”
She looked over his sun-bronzed, Greek god physique and golden blond, blue eyed face with the appraising eye of a woman on the prowl.
“Oh, no chance at all,” she said sarcastically. “So not my type. I’m not into the completely gorgeous, sexy, super model, stud type. I’m immune to your charms, Malcolm Brodie.” She shook her head, trying to keep her face neutral.
“Damn,” Brodie sighed, easing his muscular body through the tightly grouped chairs. “Cause I’m sure as hell not immune to yours.”
© 2016 Dellani Oakes