Chapter 23 Kay’lo Mensah #2
“Oh. Okay. Well… I also came to see about your custom cars,” she added quick. “I see your business all over social media so I wanted to check it out in person and… you know, see what them prices look like.”
I raised an eyebrow ‘cause I knew damn well that wasn’t the reason she pulled up. Wrap jobs alone cost racks, and I’m sure she knew that. Everybody knew that. But I let her talk.
“You got any specific ideas or you just talkin’?” I asked.
She laughed soft like I was flirtin’, even though I wasn’t. “I just wanna explore my options.”
“I bet you do,” I said under my breath.
We stood there a lil’ longer while she kept up small talk, askin’ what kind of cars I had in the shop today and how long I been runnin’ ‘Lo Motion. I answered what needed answers and let the rest fall wherever it fell. I ain’t like people poppin’ up on me, especially not a woman I barely knew, but I kept that to myself.
She already looked nervous enough, and I wasn’t tryna make her feel stupid for comin’ up here, even though the shit lowkey blew me.
She licked her glossed lips, then shifted closer, her perfume mixin’ in with the smoke like she wanted to trap my attention. “You never thought about callin’ me?” she asked, her voice lower this time. “Not even once?”
I met her eyes and took another pull off my blunt. “Thought about it,” I said. “Just didn’t do it.”
That shut her up for a second ‘cause she ain’t l know what to do with honesty like that. She probably wasn’t used to niggas bein’ upfront unless they was tryna impress her or some shit.
She tilted her head and breathed out. “Kay’Lo, you confusing as hell.”
“I get that a lot,” I said with a small shrug.
She let out a breathy laugh even though she was frustrated. Then she tried somethin’ bolder.
“Sooo… since you didn’t use my number, can I use yours?” she asked, her brows up like she already knew the answer.
I paused and looked down at her again ‘cause she was bold as hell. She wasn’t scared of me, but she was definitely nervous.
It was written all in how she held her purse strap tight when my eyes dropped to her legs.
She wanted my attention, but she ain’t know what kind of nigga she was askin’ to entertain her.
I thought about Toni for a quick second.
Then I thought about how Toni still hadn’t said a damn word to me. And somewhere between both of those thoughts, I just gave in.
“Yeah,” I said finally, givin’ her my number so she would stop standin’ here waitin’.
She typed it in her phone, smirked and said, “I’ll hit you up.”
I nodded once. “Do that.”
I stepped back toward the shop, not givin’ her more than what she already took. But she turned around slow and strutted toward her car, her hips swingin’ like she knew I was watchin’ even though I ain’t react.
When she pulled off, I took another long drag from my blunt and stared at the empty spot where her car had been, tryna figure out what the hell she thought she was walkin’ into. She knew I was married, but still wanted me.
Even if I did entertain Echo, it would never be more than she wanted it to be.
THE DIAMOND FLOOR
Later that night…
The night was startin’ to settle, and I was laid across the bed with a blunt between my fingers while ESPN played low in the background.
The commentator was hypin’ some highlight reel, but I wasn’t payin’ attention to none of it.
I had my legs stretched out across the sheets, my briefs sittin’ low on my hips, the whole room smellin’ like hot water from the shower and loud from my blunt.
It should’ve been a calm night, but my mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up.
No matter how many times I told myself I was done thinkin’ about Toni for the night, she crept back in anyway.
I flicked ash into the tray and let the smoke roll slow past my lips while I stared at the TV without actually seein’ it. I hated that I knew her so well that I could damn near predict the shit she was doin’ right now.
I was really startin’ to pay attention to the fact that Toni would shut down whenever life hit her too hard.
It was startin’ to click to me that she told me when shit would get bad for her as a kid, she would just disappear into herself for days, sometimes weeks, not talkin’, not eatin’ much and barely existin’.
I guess when she first told me this shit, I ain’t understand it, but now it felt like I had a front row seat to that same behavior all over again.
I rubbed my hand over my face and stared at the ceilin’ cause the shit made me feel helpless in a way I ain’t l like.
If this was some regular couple argument, I would press her and force her to talk to me, but it felt deeper than that.
It felt like she was protectin’ herself from somethin’ only she could see.
I knew she had her own wounds, the same way I got mine, but every time I tried to meet her halfway she pushed me back like she ain’t want no type of bridge built between us.
And after a while, a nigga just stop reachin’ out ‘cause bein’ rejected by the person you love hit different.
That shit cut through your pride and your patience at the same time.
I knew I was the problem at times, but damn!
A notification lit up my phone on the nightstand and interrupted the thought. I reached for it slow, already knowin’ it wasn’t Toni ‘cause she hadn’t texted me anything besides dry-ass one word answers. And sure enough, when I opened the screen, it was a message from Echo.
What you doing?
I let out a low breath and leaned my head into the pillow.
Echo was fine as hell and she knew it, and she sent messages like she expected me to be pressed over her.
I typed back somethin’ simple and leaned the phone on my chest. It ain’t take her long to reply ‘cause another bubble popped up almost instantly.
First it was a picture of her out somewhere with her girls with a tight dress and her waist slim.
Her makeup was done heavy, which was somethin’ I ain’t really care for.
Her legs was glistenin’ in all the pictures.
She looked good, and even I couldn’t pretend she didn’t, but good don’t mean meaningful.
Good don’t mean she had a space in my head like that.
Another picture came through, this time of her in a swimsuit. Ass out, and hips angled like it was a deliberate picture. This was the type of picture females only send when they tryna bait a nigga into reacting.
My eyes dragged slow down the screen while I hit the blunt and let the smoke fill my lungs.
Echo was grown, sexy, confident and the type that walked like she already knew her body made niggas double-take.
I sat up and leaned my back into the headboard so I could look at the picture again before settin’ my phone beside me.
The phone dinged again.
When can I see you?
I ain’t answer right away ‘cause I was tryna decide if entertainin’ this shit again was gon’ make me feel worse or better. Toni didn’t want me around her, and ain’t let a nigga in that mansion unless I was droppin’ somethin’ off or leavin’ somethin’ by the damn door.
And shit, niggas break too. We just break ugly. We break through actions instead of tears. We break by lookin’ for anything that distract us from the person we really want.
So I ran my hand down my chest and typed back.
Slide through.
Her reply came fast as hell.
On my way send me the location.
Once I sent off the location, thirty minutes later she was textin’ me.
I dropped the blunt in the tray and stood up, stretchin’ my back before grabbin’ some sweatpants and pullin’ them on. I ain’t bother with a shirt ‘cause a hoodie was enough. I threw it on halfway while walkin’ to the elevator, still feelin’ the leftover heat from the shower on my skin.
By the time she texted me again that she was pullin’ up, I was already downstairs. The valet was at the curb with a bored look on his face until the white Benz rolled in. Echo hopped out with her hair fallin’ down her back, and her outfit snug,
She came straight up to me and hugged me around my torso. I let one arm tap her back lightly, but I wasn’t pullin’ her in.
Still, she smiled like she wasn’t discouraged and walked with me toward the elevator. She talked soft about some random shit I ain’t really process.
Echo kept glancin’ up at me, tryna read somethin’ in my expression, but I ain’t give her anything.
We stepped into the room and before the door even clicked shut, somethin’ in me snapped into a different gear. All that indecision, all that thinkin’ and that emotional shit I had been drownin’ in—none of it followed me past the doorway.
Echo barely had time to turn around before I pressed her back into the door. My hands went flat beside her, my arms cagin’ her in so she couldn’t go nowhere even if she wanted to. The dominance wasn’t forced. It was instinct. It was just the way my body moved when I got in that mode.
She let out a gasp, but she held my stare like she wasn’t scared.
She slid her hand under my hoodie and touched my stomach, her nails draggin’ up my abs slow like she was tryna make me react.
The corner of her mouth lifted when she looked down and slid her hand lower, dippin’ past my waistline.
When she finally got a handful of what she was lookin’ for, she pressed her lips together and hummed soft.
Yeah, she knew exactly what she was touchin’.
I stared down at her with that look I only gave when I wasn’t thinkin’, and when I was just lettin’ instinct lead. She swallowed hard and gripped my dick tighter, her hand nowhere near big enough to wrap around me. That lil’ struggle made me smirk.
“Yeah… you feelin’ all that,” I muttered.
She opened her mouth to say somethin’ but I caught her neck first, suckin’ slow at the spot that made her whole body jerk. Her grip tightened and my shit jumped right back, heavy as hell in her palm. I felt her knees damn near give out, so I slid my hands under her ass and lifted her.