cont from here
It took Aiden half a second to realize he was sitting across from the one and only Sylvia Lopez and less than that for a smirk to pave over his previously flustered expression. He couldn’t say this was the worst she’d seen of him. Hell this wasn’t even top fuckin ten. Though he could say Plan B’s dim lighting did her absolutely no justice. Cascading brunette locks. Piercing eyes, a rich brown so dark he found himself lost in them most nights. But now, in the light, he had a sudden urge to lean forward and see what secrets he could pluck from’em. Now wasn’t the time though. No-- plenty paid good money for a view of the latin bombshell. He could do the same later.
“You say that like you’ve been waitin’ or somethin’,” he replied with a slight cock of his head. Sylvia was nothin if not blunt. It was refreshin to see it translate into everyday life. “Your nails’ll be fine. I think. I promise it ain’t much. I just gotta send a draft to my agent and-- well--” his words cut off, the sudden imagery sending a very ill-timed twitch through his core. Fuck-- two seconds ago he was about five away from passin out and now, his mind, weak and sleep deprived, was havin’ a field day. “Research-- yeah maybe,” his words came out raspier than expected and he cleared the gravel from his throat with a cough into his elbow, “We both know, I ain’t the type ta take advantage. But help me out here and maybe I can front your next visit to Annie’s?” he smiled, dipping to pull his laptop from his bag. It was a dell, black and looked like someone slammed it into the tumbler of a cement mixer but it worked. Kinda. “As I was sayin, I just need one email sent. Problem is I can’t type for shit right now and it’s gotta look less like a kindergartener wrote it and more like a grown ass adult. So, what’d ya say? Help a poor guy out?” @sylvialopez
