Mic
I signed to Davis to start the grill. I had just set out some deviled eggs and jalapeño poppers for appetizers. A hand smacked my a*s hard, making me jump. I turned and glared at the culprit.
“F*ck Ford. You trying to leave a mark?”
“Always baby,” he said, picking up an egg and popping it into his mouth.
“Save that sh*t for the bedroom,” I grumbled.
“You’re no fun. Davis doesn’t mine. H*ll, even Dawson let’s me get an a*s smack in. You know I’m an a*s man. And you have a delectable a*s.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Guilty,” he winked and walked away. I didn’t know how he was always so d*mn chipper. Everything was a joke, or a good time with him.
I looked around to make sure everything was perfect. Dawson said he invited the potential girl of our dreams today, and she said s
