“Don’t you worry your pretty little face,” Logan coos while his hand rubs down my back, lower and lower, until his hand is cupping my ass.
“Get your hands off me, before I get Dylan to break your arms.” It’s said as a joke, but I’m serious.
“I don’t think it’s Dylan I have to worry about,” he mutters as Jake gets between us and shoves him to the side.
“Leave her alone you asshole,” he holds his hand out, “come with me?”
I take his hand, “Um, okay. What about the others?” I ask.
I really want to know what their plan is, what this ‘Operation Mayhem’ is. Shit, I hope its nothing permanent, or illegal. I don’t know these guys at all, they could be buying stuff to bomb his truck, or his house. Oh my god, what if they’re going to ki-
“Relax,” Jake laughs. “Shit, Mikayla, we’re not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a bit of fun, trust me okay?” He must have seen the internal meltdown I was having.
I smile and nod. Because I do. Trust him.
“Now, help me choose please, I don’t know anything about this stuff,” he says, pointing his finger in the air and motioning around us.
“Huh?” I take a look around and see that we’re in the mens formal wear section, “Oh, okay.” I look over at him. He’s still wearing his suit pants and the plain white tank. His broad chest and muscled back defined behind the material.
“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” I ask with a raised eyebrow, mocking him.
“Ha Ha” he says flatly, “It would be fine if I wanted to look like Eminem circa 2001.” We both laugh. “I’m thinking black shirt, to go with your dress, and blue tie, the same as the flower at the front.” He starts going through the racks