The small row home was immaculately clean and modestly decorated. Ace’s phone vibrated quickly. Text message. Upstairs Papi. He trod the stairs quie...ly and entered the room in the center of the hall. Sparse plumes of marijuana smoke wafted around the space, eventually trailing towards the open window. Imar stood bare-chested and clad in plaid boxers that peeked over basketball shorts, padding the ash from end of his joint into a glass ashtray. His smooth, caramel skin still glistened with beads. "Ah, shit, you had to go and tell me that, didn't you? Well, at least it was our house, and there were a bunch of us around. That little fuck wasn't gonna try anything much with most of the football team there. I just wish Brit would get tired of his skinny ass soon. I'm tired of his smirks, but I can't kick his ass while she's still hanging on to it," he said."Maybe she just needs a little of the good lovin' from the Ray Machine," I said to him, giving him my best Groucho Marx eyebrow. More

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