22. Sol
Sol
One Month Later
I didn’t do dates, at least not real ones. I took bitches to hotels, fucked them, and then dropped a couple of bands on them. I saw nigga’s wear black ties sitting across from a woman to take the time to get to know her and thought that shit was lame as fuck…
For Yeremy, I made the exception. We pulled up to a steakhouse a little past eight.
I stepped around to her side to open her door like a gentleman.
I watched her thick toned legs swing out slowly as she stood.
Her curves was wrapped in a deep olive dress that clung to her caramel skin like it missed her every time she moved.
“Damn, Ma,” I muttered, holding my hand out.
Her cheeks rose as she dropped her head and blushed from my admiration.
“You a real distraction, Yeremy.” I talked directly into her ear as we stepped onto pavement.
She giggled as we walked through the double doors.
I still felt conflicted to all of this. Especially the quiet want that crawled under my skin, making me crave more than just her body.
I liked her smile, laugh, and how she could carry a conversation.
Yeremy knew when to be quiet and listen to me whenever I talked, although I probably never said too much like her.
We was led to a booth in the back where it was dimly lit.
Once we were seated, I couldn’t peel my eyes off of Yeremy.
She always looked good as hell but tonight she looked like her ass was born to be worshipped.
She looked too perfect; her thick hair framed her face.
She had a light coat of lip gloss that tinted her lips pink.
I didn’t want to ogle her but couldn’t help that shit.
“This our first actual date,” she said taking a small sip of wine.
“I took you on a date before this.” I chuckled.
The waitress arrived at our table, I ordered for her and myself then went back to staring at her.
“That wasn’t a date. You were tricking big time that day. We spent all day at the mall shopping and ate at the food court. You took me back home and fucked me all night. Fair exchange.” She giggled and shrugged her shoulders.
“You don’t even look like the type to take women out on dates,” she added.
I folded my hands in front of me and eyed her a little longer.
I purposely wanted to make her squirm in her seat.
I still made Yeremy nervous which meant I gave her pretty ass butterflies.
I wanted it to always be that way whenever I was in her presence.
Through her nervousness, she didn’t take no shit.
I didn’t need to game her up and tell her all kinds of mushy shit.
I already got the pussy. I dropped money on her like it was nothing.
To me, it wasn’t an even exchange. Her pussy was priceless, she should have known that.
“I’m not, a nigga like me don’t date.” I leaned forward and placed one of my hands on top of hers.
“I didn’t expect to want to date you though…”
She tilted her head then raised her perfectly arched brows at me.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
The waitress came back with our food. My stomach growled soon as the aroma of my food drifted up my nose. I picked up my knife, but before I reached for my fork, Yeremy cleared her throat and eyed me like I lost my mind.
“Answer my question before you stuff your mouth.” She rolled her eyes.
I set my knife down. I leaned back against the leather booth and studied her for a couple of seconds.
“It means you talk back, ask questions. You challenge shit I do and say instead of just going with whatever like most bitches do when they in the presence of a paid nigga. I thought I could fuck out whatever I was feeling and then stop cold turkey, but I can’t.”
She blushed hard; I laughed inwardly then focused back on my juicy ass steak.
“So I guess that got me a date at a five star restaurant.” She smiled softly.
“Nah, that made me not want to let you go so I can see where this shit goes.” I corrected her.
Her eyes flickered. She wasn’t expecting for me to say that…
I wasn’t expecting it either, but I wouldn’t take it back since I really meant it.
After dinner, we walked out into the night air.
I placed my hand on the small of her back.
I realized that I loved touching her soft fluffy body.
The movie theater was next for us. We made it there before everyone else.
Yeremy and I sat in the back row. She curled into my side then after a couple of seconds, she shifted and looked up into my eyes.
“Why are you so closed off? You don’t talk about shit that matters like that. You really just listen to me talk.” She sighed after the words left her mouth.
“I don’t trust easy. It ain’t ’cause I got a corny heartbreak story to tell.
It’s because I watched several people beg for love and still get left in the dirt by the people they love.
I seen friends turn into enemies over paper or jealousy and greed.
Family sell each other out over pride. I just like to keep my heart quiet and mind guarded.
Nobody ever made me want to change that.
I think it’s good you are how you are, though, Yeremy.
Only down side is…you end up hurt…heart in pieces…
. you run back to Casper to put it back together, every time.
Nothing wrong with that, but me? I’m a man who can’t afford to constantly have my heart shattered or even move with feelings.
If my shit break, it’s on me to put that shit back together. ”
“Earth to you, nigga!” Fatz clapped his fat hands in front of my face.
I blinked then focused in on him from across the table.
Today was a short meeting at the recreation center.
Business was good, numbers was up. There was no nigga stepping to me and Fatz shortchanged.
I had a couple of our top men outside the recreation center BBQ.
Music thumped loudly as the sound of them laughing and talking shit carried inside of the center.
I sat at the end of the table with my thoughts placed on Yeremy.
I missed the fuck out of her. She curved me hard, and I didn’t know why exactly.
I showed up to her job, only to find out she no longer worked there.
I took it a step further by going back to that square nigga Larae house.
He pissed in his pants at the front door when I barged my way in.
He had a sexy little ghetto broad laid up half-naked on his couch.
He swore up and down he had nothing to say to Yeremy.
His bitch ass cried and said he was working on getting his family back.
I went to the extreme by calling Casper.
I didn’t give a fuck about telling the nigga that I was dating his daughter.
I was ready to deal with whatever repercussions that came with that shit.
I wanted her, craved her, and needed to at least talk to her.
Shit was starting to piss me off. Her phone number had been changed, or either I was blocked.
I cursed her dumb ass out in my mind several times a day and told myself to just let her go.
“Yeah nigga, you tripping! I’m going outside to eat and take these niggas money by shooting some dice.” Fatz huffed and puffed as he scooted his chair back and stood up.
“Fatz, you good?” I asked him, pushing my own thoughts back.
“Yeah, why you ask that?”
“Just wondering, it’s something in ya eyes, my nigga.” I squinted at him.
“Something in my eyes?” He laughed and waved me off.
“Nigga it’s something in my stomach that’s growling. Something in my gut yearning to taste them ribs and potato salad that I brought to this shit.” He sucked his stomach in then released it.
“Sit down and rap with me, nigga…that shit not done yet.” I snatched the blunt from behind my ear and sparked it.
Fatz sighed and mumbled underneath his breath some shit that I couldn’t make out.
He eyed a crate that was a couple of inches away from me.
He took a seat on it and spread his legs wide.
His belly rose and fell beneath the oversized hoodie he wore.
He dug into the front pocket of his hoodie and snatched a honey bun out.
Fatz just eyed it for a couple of seconds never ripping it open. That was a red flag in itself to me.
He stared at nothing in particular as I eyed him. When he glanced up at me, I saw the look again in his gaze that bothered me. His eyes were soulless and dark.
“Talk to me, Fatz.” I pressed him.
He didn’t look at me right away. He blinked and chuckled as if I was the one with a problem.
“Nigga, why the fuck you keep asking me that shit? I’m simply trying to go outside and shoot some dice and eat. Ain’t shit wrong with me.” This time there was no humor in his tone of voice.
With me, Fatz always kept shit light. He loved to joke and make light of any situation.
“You ain’t touched that honey bun yet…that’s how I know yo greedy ass is lying to me.” I chuckled dryly.
He looked back up at me with hollow eyes.
“You been quiet all week long,” I added trying to get him to open up.
“I ain’t know you looked at me like I was a part of the Eastie entertainment committee.” He scoffed, stuffing the honeybun back into his front pocket.
“I ain’t joking nigga. I know you well, something is off about you. I’m your brother. If something is wrong, you need to say it so we can figure this shit out. You sitting there staring off into space and shit like your forgot how to exist.”
Fatz just stared at me, something flickered behind his eyes momentarily as he licked his dry lips.
“Ain’t nothing worth mentioning. I’m good, you got enough to be worrying about. Real shit, ain’t nothing that I ain’t been through before that I can’t get through today. My mind just be fucking up sometime. Got to get my shit together mentally, that’s all.”
“What about your mind, Fatz?”