"So, what are your plans for today?" Dawson asks as he pours me my second cup of coffee.
Bless his f*****g heart.
"I have to head home soon to get ready for some frat cookout," I mutter between long sips, humming contently as the hot liquid glides over my tongue, down my throat and warming my insides; slowly pulling me out of my sleep filled haze.
His head whips around and stares at me incredulously, causing me to set down my mug. My thumb idly traces over the small chip along the rim, bracing myself for his protests.
"I don't know how I feel about you going to hangout with a bunch of tools." Annoyance immaculately coating every word as he speaks.
I snort, "One of those tools is your brother," I pause to take another small sip, "and if you have such a problem with me being around a
