pretty much kept everyone away.”
If Mads wasn’t there? NO! WAY! “You never were even there?”
Shaking her head, she answers, “No. I told him I would castrate him if I found out he took his penis and touched you anywhere with it.” Looking at my face, she abruptly stands, saying, “That boy better have kept his one inch detestable dick to himself. Did he?”
“Yes,” I answer. “No dicking here,” I hope. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard.
Sitting back down, she leans forward, whispering in my ear, “We need to talk about Nick later. Okay?”
So she did see me talking with Nick. This is getting more interesting by the minute. Nodding, I look over her head at Lil Rip staring back.
“Are my girls ready to drink it out?” Tamara sits down with a large tray filled with premium bottles of alcohol and shot glasses.
Everyone reaches in to pour, except Madison and myself. I’m not a big drinker and Mads is the designated-driver tonight by choice.
“I’m the double D tonight, so pour a couple shots of Patron up for Kylie. She needs to get a little lit,” she says, smiling at me.
“No thanks.” Everyone around me groans at my answer.
Leaning over to whisper in my ear, Mads says, “If you want to know about Nick Andrews, then drink up.”
I don’t get drunk often, and especially not in public. The local media loves to print gossip, and for some reason, they refer to me as a Southern Socialite. I don’t understand it. It amazes me that my love life, or lack thereof, is an interest to anyone. Secondly, I represent my business at all times, and I care about my reputation. It’s a conundrum, because I really want the low down on the whole Nick situation.
“One shot,” I say, reaching for the glass. Grabbing a shot, I shoot it back, feeling the burn all down my throat. Staying still for a moment, I will my stomach not to rebel.
“Two,” Madison dares.
“Don’t push it,” I warn.
We sit around talking about music as several people weave in and out of the conversation. I have to admit that the shot relaxed me enough to enjoy the evening. At some point, Lil Rip had to depart with some emergency, so Mads walks him out, and I go to say my goodbyes.
I make my way through the house, when suddenly, I’m face to face with Dray.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to me?” he says.
“I can now that I’m seeing you. Did you molest my hair?” I waste no time asking.
“Well, I guess you could say I fingered it.”
“Did you finger anything else?”
“No, I’m afraid of frost bite, but now that you are asking…, I might be persuaded to take the chance.” Leaning in, he speaks softly, “You know, if you want to stay, I’m sure we can find something to do. I would love to kiss those beautiful, plump lips. And then, I’ll move up to kiss the ones on your face.”
It takes a minute before I realize what he is implying, and I really want to smack the grin off his face. Shoving his shoulder to move him out of the way, I storm past muttering, “You butt-fucker.”
“Is that an invitation?” he calls after me.
Finding Mads waiting in the car, I sit down and slam the door.
“Must have run into Dray,” she says laughing.
Grunting my response, I buckle my seatbelt and close my heavy eyes. One day, I’m going to lose it and slap him silly in front of everyone. I hear women constantly say how he’s such a smooth sweet-talker. Bah, why does he act like a frat boy every chance he gets around me with his blatant innuendos? One day soon, instead of getting upset or completely ignoring him, I’m just going to agree to whatever he says and freak him out. I like that idea. Actually, I really like that idea.
“Why are you quieter than a graveyard over there?”
“Plotting payback,” I retort.
Madison’s high shrill echoes through her small car as we drive the rest of the
If Mads wasn’t there? NO! WAY! “You never were even there?”
Shaking her head, she answers, “No. I told him I would castrate him if I found out he took his penis and touched you anywhere with it.” Looking at my face, she abruptly stands, saying, “That boy better have kept his one inch detestable dick to himself. Did he?”
“Yes,” I answer. “No dicking here,” I hope. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard.
Sitting back down, she leans forward, whispering in my ear, “We need to talk about Nick later. Okay?”
So she did see me talking with Nick. This is getting more interesting by the minute. Nodding, I look over her head at Lil Rip staring back.
“Are my girls ready to drink it out?” Tamara sits down with a large tray filled with premium bottles of alcohol and shot glasses.
Everyone reaches in to pour, except Madison and myself. I’m not a big drinker and Mads is the designated-driver tonight by choice.
“I’m the double D tonight, so pour a couple shots of Patron up for Kylie. She needs to get a little lit,” she says, smiling at me.
“No thanks.” Everyone around me groans at my answer.
Leaning over to whisper in my ear, Mads says, “If you want to know about Nick Andrews, then drink up.”
I don’t get drunk often, and especially not in public. The local media loves to print gossip, and for some reason, they refer to me as a Southern Socialite. I don’t understand it. It amazes me that my love life, or lack thereof, is an interest to anyone. Secondly, I represent my business at all times, and I care about my reputation. It’s a conundrum, because I really want the low down on the whole Nick situation.
“One shot,” I say, reaching for the glass. Grabbing a shot, I shoot it back, feeling the burn all down my throat. Staying still for a moment, I will my stomach not to rebel.
“Two,” Madison dares.
“Don’t push it,” I warn.
We sit around talking about music as several people weave in and out of the conversation. I have to admit that the shot relaxed me enough to enjoy the evening. At some point, Lil Rip had to depart with some emergency, so Mads walks him out, and I go to say my goodbyes.
I make my way through the house, when suddenly, I’m face to face with Dray.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to me?” he says.
“I can now that I’m seeing you. Did you molest my hair?” I waste no time asking.
“Well, I guess you could say I fingered it.”
“Did you finger anything else?”
“No, I’m afraid of frost bite, but now that you are asking…, I might be persuaded to take the chance.” Leaning in, he speaks softly, “You know, if you want to stay, I’m sure we can find something to do. I would love to kiss those beautiful, plump lips. And then, I’ll move up to kiss the ones on your face.”
It takes a minute before I realize what he is implying, and I really want to smack the grin off his face. Shoving his shoulder to move him out of the way, I storm past muttering, “You butt-fucker.”
“Is that an invitation?” he calls after me.
Finding Mads waiting in the car, I sit down and slam the door.
“Must have run into Dray,” she says laughing.
Grunting my response, I buckle my seatbelt and close my heavy eyes. One day, I’m going to lose it and slap him silly in front of everyone. I hear women constantly say how he’s such a smooth sweet-talker. Bah, why does he act like a frat boy every chance he gets around me with his blatant innuendos? One day soon, instead of getting upset or completely ignoring him, I’m just going to agree to whatever he says and freak him out. I like that idea. Actually, I really like that idea.
“Why are you quieter than a graveyard over there?”
“Plotting payback,” I retort.
Madison’s high shrill echoes through her small car as we drive the rest of the
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