“Like f**k you do! You walk in there guns blazing. You leave your good girl morals at the door. Do you hear me? There is a time and place that you bring your over analysing pretty head into personal situations and… this is not one of them. You’re a fighter and you need to keep fighting Nessa.” He demands.
He takes a bite from his rack of ribs and I burst out laughing as the sauce drips all over his shirt possibly staining it.
“f**k, s**t…shit...” He mutters.“Jeez, I swear I’m not usually this messy.” He grabs the cloth napkin on the table and dips it into his glass of water, then tries to dab at the forming stain.
“Here let me.” I get up from my chair and kneel in front of him taking the napkin off him. I try to get as much sauce as I can out of his shirt.
“I think your shir
