You ready for this?” Cole asked, a grin on his face.
She reached up, pulling with both hands on the edges of her brown paper bag, her hands adjusting until her eyes were on his, gleaming out from a face with a teardrop tattoo, a blood-red pout, and a nose ring. “Do you even have to ask?”
Cole laughed, tugging down on his own bag, Summer working on it all morning, his dramatic mustache one that twisted and curled, bushy eyebrows on top that would cause his stylist to fall over dead.