"What kind of weird mood requires sprinkles?" Jonathan asked, but not really all that interested in any sort of coherent answer. He teased her a little by kissing a spot on her neck and blowing on it.
"And yes, it shall be stag-riffic. But you'd have to let me go for me to get these tasteful, St. Patty's sprinkles," he said in a tone that conveyed his disinterest in actually going to find said stag-night-basket. "And I will wear those jeans on Monday. I could wear them when I take you out to dinner tonight, if you want."
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