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“Not two times in a rowww,”I thought, squeezing my thighs together and gnawing at my lip before I told him, “I mean, I don’t hate it,but…”
“Good,” he stated sharply. “Cause I think it’s a beautiful name.”
Okay, now I was definitely blushing to the point that I was slightly annoyed by it because I wasn’t some googly-eyed, super warm in the cheeks ass chick. In fact,Iwas usually the one making other people blush. But with Snoop, I was already in a deficit, trying to play catch up when I batted my eyelashes and asked, “So you gonna tell me your real name now, or…?”
Bringing his cup back near his lips, he peeked over at me and responded, “Nah, I’m good.”
“Aww, you must be embarrassed by it then,” I cooed. “Is it ugly, or just old-sounding?”
“It’s neither,” he chuckled.
“What’s it start with?”
“Starts with a K like Kiki,” he replied with another smirk, making me roll my eyes as I sucked my teeth and muttered,“You’re lying.”
“I’m for real,” he insisted.
But I still didn’t believe him, loosely crossing my arms over my chest as I asked, “So where did Snoop come from then?”
“My last name is Dogwood.”
“...okay?”
“Snoop… Dogwood.”
Even with him putting it together slowly, it still took me a second to realize, “Ohhh. Like the rapper. That’s very nineties baby of you… Kevin?”
“Wrong.”
“Kyler?”
“Wrong again,” he taunted.
“Why are you making this so hard for meee?” I whined, happy to see him grin about it even when he chose to respond to my question with a question.
“Why do you wanna know so bad?”
“You’re atmyparty, inmykitchen, drinkingmyliquor. The least I could do is know your name.”
He’d nodded along like I’d made a good point. But instead of responding as such, Snoop said, “This isn’t liquor. And youdoknow my name.”
“So if you pass out and the paramedics ask me for your government name, I should tell them it’s Snoop?” I asked, thinking maybe that would help him see the importance of sharing. But instead of taking my hypothetical situation seriously, Snoop responded with a closed mouth laugh.
“That’s not gonna happen, Shakira.”
“But if it did?”
“Then, yeah. Tell ‘em it’s Snoop,” he smirked, taking another sipof… whatever it was he was drinking as I rolled my eyes and groaned, “You’re difficult.”
“Am I? Or are you just easily frustrated?”
Just as my lips parted to address his accusations, I heard a familiar voice ask, “You good, bruh?”
“Yeah, I’m coolin’, big dog,” Snoop responded, dapping up the person I had a feeling would be able to get me some answers.
So without wasting any time, I asked his friend and mine, “Hunter, what’s his name?”
Since the two of us had already been standing here talking for who knows how long, Hunter was confused by the question, his left eyebrow raising a bit as he freshened up his drink while answering, “It’s Snoop.”
