Mature.
Brandon
She said yes, right? Wait, to what?
“Yes?” He asked.
“Yes.” She said it just as quiet as she did before.
“Yes…” he parroted. They were both soaked from the rain. Her hair stuck to the sides of her face. His shirt clung onto her and he knew he probably looked stupid in nothing but sweats only and—who was he kidding? He knew what he looked like to her. She loved him with the water running down his body. Damn, she said it plenty of times. But those n*****s were peaking through that shirt and he had to drag his eyes away from them.
Right. He asked if she would choose him.
And she just said yes. That’s more important right now.
“You would choose me,” he said. “Accept me. The whole nine yards.”
Now wasn’t the time for a sports analogy and he felt like a damn i***t for
