Chapter 1 #3
He played in the hair on his chin as he leaned against his door and drove. Charlie reached for the radio and Demi could practically see her damn fingerprints on his screen.
He let her choose the vibe, however, as she hooked her phone up to his Bluetooth without asking.
He wasn’t sure why she amused him. Most weren’t this assertive in his presence, but Charlie moved like she was the boss.
Like, he was pushing her whip and she didn’t need to ask for shit inside these four doors.
The sound of her voice as she leaned back and closed her eyes invaded their space.
She barely let the words leave her lips, in fact, she wasn’t saying anything at all.
Just letting the music fill her mouth, humming softly, every other lyric as she enjoyed the song.
You say you’ve got a girl
Why you want me?
How you want me if you got a girl?
Demi watched the music move through her body, despite the fact that she didn’t move an inch.
Only her finger tapped softly against her thigh.
Oh, how he wanted to be that finger, keeping the tempo, to his heart.
Why the fuck was his heart beating at her command?
He swallowed the lump in his throat, clearing his discomfort as the bridge hit.
Her voice was soft as it floated into the air.
She wasn’t trying, but no effort from Charlie was like an award-winning performance from anybody else.
Her voice made goosebumps sprout on his forearms.
I’ll just keep him satisfied through the weekend
You’re like 9 to 5, I’m the weekendddd
Make him lose his mind for the weekenddd
The lyrics played in his mind long after they ended and as he pulled up to her townhome, he used the button on his steering wheel to lower the volume.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said. “Much better than the Uber.”
“Not a problem,” he replied.
She got out and was halfway to her building when she turned back for the car.
He rolled down the passenger window.
“Hey, do you have somewhere to be?” she asked.
He looked at the clock. Did he? He knew he should probably answer differently but instead, he said, “You get in Ubers in the middle of the night, invite niggas you don’t know in your house. You living a real thug life.”
Her laughter was warming. It heated his entire middle and Demi glanced down, wondering if she could see the fire she caused.
Women were a motherfucka. They were some powerful, voodoo, intuition-having, dick-hardening, motherfuckas.
Her essence was created to arouse his nature and everything about Demi was triggered by her, most of all, his intrigue.
And Demi wasn’t a man who took interest easily.
“I know you. You’re Demi. I’m Charlie,” she said sarcastically. “Nigga, you coming in or not?”
“I’ma opt-out. You be good, though,” he said.
“I’m a little better at being bad,” she challenged.
“But if you pussy just say that.” She shrugged, looking away from him, as a smirk spread her mauve-colored lips.
She had licked her lipstick off but the natural pink of them was better.
He couldn’t take his eyes off them, actually, and those teeth.
Pretty-ass teeth that were small and neat, like she had worn braces once upon a time.
He felt like a stalker the way he was annotating every detail of her face.
She pulled a full laugh from him with that one. If only she knew.
“Yo, baby, you asking for problems,” he warned. “This ride got a height requirement. Got to get your weight up first, Ms. Charlie. Goodnight, bird.”
“Bird?” she repeated, brow bent. She had been teased for years for being small and skinny.
She had heard it all coming up as a kid.
It had made her defensive and had made her bite real viscious because people stayed trying her with their bark.
She had learned that people normally backed down when she stood up for herself.
“Chill, killa,” he said. Amusement forced a vague smile onto his lips. “I don’t want no smoke. Songbird. It’s a compliment. No disrespect,” he said.
Her face softened.
“Night,” she said, retreating.
He waited until she was inside her door before he pulled off into the night.
Charlie entered her place and her Bulldog, Bails, automatically came to her feet.
“I missed you, Bails. Such a good boy. Mama loves you,” she cooed, bending to rustle his blocky head.
He rested right at her feet. He was a lazy boy and she was doing too much for his grumpy taste.
She giggled as she bypassed him, sighing at the relief she felt.
This was her solace. To anyone else, it was chaotic, but to her it was perfect.
She had lived with a lot of mental noise around her for a long time.
This place was hers and hers alone. Eclectic in taste, none of her furniture matched.
A royal blue couch was the focal point of the room.
She walked the path to her room, hurrying upstairs, bypassing the basket of clean clothes she had been telling herself she would fold for a week.
Tomorrow, she promised herself. Another lie, but hey it sounded good.
That was the beauty of living alone. Her own rules applied.
Charlie shed her dress along the way to her room, leaving it in the middle of the floor as she headed for the shower.
She turned on the water but instead of stepping inside, she pulled open the drawer, removing her portable Beats Pill and the vape pen she kept there.
Charlie pulled her hair in a top knot and stood in the mirror in her panties and bra as she pulled the smoke into her lungs.
She felt instant relief. The anxiety, the fear she lived with daily, instantly floated outside of her body. Charlie connected her phone, pressing play.
Alina Baraz matched her vibe, and she took another hit.
Charlie sang to the mirror, pointing to herself and vibing before turning to the shower.
She stepped one foot inside when heavy knocks halted her.
She startled, turning toward the open bathroom door and looking out into the hallway like someone would magically appear.
Her heart raced as she grabbed her silk robe, tying it before going toward the door.
She stood on her tip-toes, peeking out of the peephole and she stalled. Demi stood on her porch. She frowned and pulled open the door.
He held up her wallet and Demi gave her a flat smile. She could tell he was a little annoyed by her carelessness. Certainly, he had better things to do than to double back to play delivery boy. “Thanks. I would have tore my house up looking for that in the morning,” she said.
She stepped back and motioned for him to come in.
This time, he didn’t decline, but as soon as he crossed her threshold, he froze.
The clutter felt like a brick to the face.
The house smelled like incense and her. The scent that she had left behind in his car, her body scent, and whatever she used in her hair lingered in the air like she sprayed the same thing day after day.
His mind felt overloaded. From the clothes on the couch to the scattered clippings from the pile of Essence magazines on the coffee table, the paint easel she had in the corner with paint and brushes scattered on the floor beneath it, and the crystals that lined her windowsills, Charlie’s place had no order.
It wasn’t dirty but it was chaos. His shoulders instantly bricked, filling with tension.
Demi didn’t do clutter. In his life, in his space, in his home.
She was the definition of everything he avoided.
He couldn’t even gather his thoughts as his eyes bounced around her place.
“You coming in or no?” she asked, eyes low. The lingering. The uncertainty was blowing her high and she was seconds from calling it a night. The song played from her bathroom as he deadpanned on her.
“It’s not life or death, Demi. Just being hospitable,” she said.
He stepped inside.
“I was about to shower, one sec,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.” Bails had moved to her couch and Charlie shooed him off, before picking up the basket of clothes and moving them to the floor to make room for him to sit.
Bails walked right up to his feet, nestling against his thousand-dollar sneakers and Demi’s fucking skin crawled.
“He’s harmless. A big, spoiled, baby,” Charlie said. “I’ll be right back.”
Demi opted to stand. He for damn sure wasn’t sitting where the dog had been. His eyes followed her as she walked up the steps.
The minutes ticked away as he tried not to be invasive of her home, but every inch of her place told a story about her life.
The lace panties hanging out the basket told him she was bold, sexy even, the type of woman who wasn’t afraid to wear red lingerie.
The plants growing wildly on the window sill told him she was a nurturer.
The bills piled up on the coffee table told him she was in no position to turn down the money he had offered him.
She was gone all of fifteen minutes and he had learned a lot about her in her absence.
As soon as he laid eyes on her, his mind forgot it all.
She came back wearing sweats and a cropped t-shirt that was so small it lifted slightly, revealing the bottom of her breasts.
She pulled on her vape pen.
“You want to hit this?” she asked.
“I’m good,” Demi answered.
“You want a drink?” she asked. “I think I got Henny or something.”
“That’ll do,” he said. It wasn’t his favorite, but he would need it if he was going to stick around.
Why the fuck am I sticking around anyway? He thought.
She led him to the kitchen. To his relief, it was spotless. She handed him the bottle and grabbed two glasses. “Follow me.”
She led him upstairs and into her bedroom. More clothes. His eyes took in the ten, half-filled water bottles on her nightstand.
She pulled back the curtains and revealed a balcony door.