Page 63 of Return Policy
;)
Theo Schroeder
That ass kicking better lead to some ass licking
Me
Bro lol…
But yeah, obviously I’m in
“You have any plans later?” I ask Sophia, setting the phone on the table. “And if they entail dill pickle chips and your TV, for the love of God, say no. Those arenotplans.”
She narrows her forest eyes at me. “For the record, this week’s snack is cool ranch Doritos… But if those are the parameters, I suppose, no, I donothave plans.”
“Noah and Des are having a party to celebrate last night’s win. You and the girls should come.”
“I don’t know.” Sophia leans back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. “A house full of jocks?”
“A house full ofhotjocks.” I waggle my eyebrows at her.
“Oh, okay, a house full ofcockyjocks.” Sophia grins, and I nudge her foot under the table. She nudges back and somehow our feet end up tangled together.Footsie instead of fucking—who am I?
“Just text the cute purple Skittle and the cheerleader. Come on, it’ll befun.”
“Seriously? Do you have trouble remembering people’s names or do you just enjoy horrible nicknames?”
“Sorry, tell the cute purple Skittle,Sage, and the cheerleader,Charlie, that you guys are going out tonight.”
She mutters something to herself just as our waiter arrives with the food. My mouth immediately waters when he places down my beef burrito and Sophia’s tacos with salsa verde. She picks up the taco and bites into it as I take a sip of my water.
“Holy fuck balls!” Her tongue falls out of her mouth, and she fans it with her hand. “These tacos are hotter than a jalapeño’s coochie.”
Water sprays out of my mouth all over the table… and her.
“What the fuck?” She freezes, taking in the feeling of my Sammy Sprinkler.
“What the fuckme? What the fuckyou!” I’m laughing so hard I can barely catch my breath. “A jalapeño’s coochie? What the fuck does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” She lifts her shoulders as her cheeks tinge pink. “Jalapeños are spicy, and so were the tacos… Made sense in my head.”
“I love it.” Using both our napkins, I wipe the water off the table.
Two massive margaritas later, Sophia is on cloud fucking nine, giggling so much you’d think we’re at a comedy show.
“So, you ladies in for tonight?” I ask, hoping her mood will have changed her answer.
“I don’t know…” She taps her pointer finger on her plump lips that are sporting a teasing smile.
“Have you even asked them yet?” I raise my eyebrows, and she looks away, whistling the tune of a song I’ve never heard. “Give me your phone.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pull up your lady chat and hand me your phone.” I wiggle my fingers in her direction.
“Mylady chat?”
“Sophia.”
