Chapter 6 #3
Gabi’s eyes widened. “Wait...what’s going on?”
“I don’t know yet,” Cyren muttered, annoyed. “But if this is him, he’s about to get cussed the hell out.”
“As he should,” Gabi agreed. “Love you. Call me later.”
Cyren told her she loved her, too, and hung up. Before she could second-guess herself, Cyren dialed the unknown number and placed it on speaker. Her irritation grew with every ring.
“That got your attention, huh?”
Heavy’s voice floated so smoothly and deeply through the receiver; the annoyance Cyren had before vanished immediately. His voice was so calming, but it carried weight just as his name did. Grinning, Cyren shook her head. She was about to curse the wrong person out for no reason.
“I believe the proper way to answer the phone would be by saying hello,” she replied.
Heavy chuckled at her lowkey trying to check him. He was cool with that. “A’ight. Let’s start over, then.”
“You want me to hang up and call you back?” she asked, incredulously, as if it were the most ridiculous request.
“Yeah. Hang up and hit me right back,” Heavy proposed.
“Okay,” she agreed and ended the call. “Oh, my gosh,” she squealed, grinning. Going to her call log, she was about to do as he requested, but then stopped.
“No. I’m going to make him call me.”
As happy as she was that it was Heavy calling rather than her father, Cyren didn’t want to seem pressed. A minute passed, and Heavy got the hint, dialing her back instead.
“Hello,” Cyren answered, smirking. “You see how that sounds?”
“Man”—Heavy laughed on the other end—“you funny. Hello to you, too. Happy to hear you having a good day and shit.”
“Mhm. I am.” Cyren adjusted in her seat, tucking one leg underneath her. “I’m on my lunch break. How’d you get my number?”
“What you eating for lunch?”
Cyren’s eyes narrowed, knowing he’d heard her question. “Heavy.”
“Rashaun.”
“Huh?” she asked, thrown off.
“My name is Rashaun, baby,” he said so smoothly and without thought. Her eyes widened slightly, the endearment catching her off guard.
“Oh.” She paused, then shook her head. “I guess I never knew your real name.”
“You never asked.”
A smirk tugged at her lips. “True. So where did Heavy come from?”
She’d spoken much too soon about not being able to ask him about his nickname. She couldn’t wait to send Gabi a voice message.
“My ma dukes said I was heavy as hell as a baby, so she and my family started calling me that. It just stuck with me as I got older.”
It was partially Lisa, Heavy’s mama’s, fault that he was such a chunky baby. Solid and thick with rolls and arms in his legs at five months were due to good eating and genetics.
Over the years, his nickname evolved with him. The weight he moved, the money in his pockets, the energy he carried, his presence and respect in the streets, the gun resting in his lap…all of it reflected the man he’d grown into.
That dick is heavy, too, Cyren thought, having a quick flashback.
Her body shivered at the thought of how he filled her up, stretched her to the brim, and pulled an orgasm from her so intensely that it snatched every ounce of pain she was experiencing with it.
She couldn’t tell him that, but she was sure he knew it.
“That’s so cute. So, which name should I call you?” Cyren asked.
“Whichever name you feel comfortable saying. I was just letting you know my real name. We are on a first-name basis, right?”
“I mean, sure, considering you put your dick inside me. Of course, we should definitely know each other’s real names.”
Heavy choked on a laugh. “Aye,” he called out before coughing and clearing his throat, “I was just fulfilling your requests.”
“I’m glad you know how to follow directions,” Cyren teased, smiling. Had they been on FaceTime, he would’ve seen all thirty teeth; a few wisdom teeth had been removed. “That’ll get you far in life.”
Only if she knew, Heavy was the one who called the shots and made niggas abide by his rules. “Yeah, I bet it will. Doesn’t seem like you know how to, though.”
“Why’d you say that?”
“I asked you what you were eating for lunch, and you still haven’t answered my question.”
Cyren figured he was only asking because that’s what people do.
They ask mundane questions to seemingly keep the conversation flowing but aren’t truly interested.
The fact that he circled back and brought it up again made the question he asked through text echo even louder in her brain.
No one is checking on me, but he seems to care.
Forget the fact that he didn’t answer her question first. Cyren was sure she’d never learn how he obtained her number, and quite frankly, she no longer cared.
“I didn’t bring anything, so I was gonna grab something really quick. Why? You want to bring me something?”
“I can. What you got a taste for?”
Cyren absolutely hated how quickly her thoughts became lewd.
What she had a taste for had nothing to do with food.
With him on speaker, she pulled up her menstrual tracker to see if she was ovulating this week.
When she didn’t see any green dots indicating she was fertile or a flower in place for ovulation, she almost laughed.
Heavy had her feral, and it wasn’t even that time of the month for her to be acting this way.
I knew I shouldn’t have had sex with him.
Her thoughts were loud, but the thumping in her vagina was stronger, calling her a liar.
“I’m not really sure. I kinda had a taste for some chicken. But it’s okay, though. You don’t have to go out of your way. I’ll just grab something from the work lounge.”
He didn’t respond for an unusually long time, forcing Cyren to check and see if he hung up. Heavy was quiet, and all she could hear on his end for some seconds was the sound of him driving. Her lips twisted from side to side, unsure of what she should say next.
“Um, hello?” Cyren questioned.
“Yeah, I ain’t hang up. Hold on right quick,” Heavy told her. “Welcome to Popeyes. This is Kali. What can I get started for you?” Those were the next words Cyren heard from the soft-spoken worker over the intercom.
“What’s good, Miss Kali. Let me get a three-piece wing with fries for the side.”
“And for your drink?” she asked.
“What you want to drink?”
Cyren blinked out of the daze she was in to reply. “A strawberry Fanta. Can you make the wings spicy?”
“Yeah. Let me get those wings spicy, please, and a strawberry Fanta. Make sure everything is hot,” Heavy called out. Cyren couldn’t help but smile at his mannerisms.
“Sure thing. Will that be all for you today?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Okay. I have a three-piece spicy wing dinner with fries and a strawberry pop. Anything else?”
“Nah. That’s it.”
“Okay. I’ll have your total at the window.”
“A’ight, ‘preciate it.”
“My pleasure,” Miss Kali replied.
Cyren knew what he’d done was simple. Having a man order her some food was the bare minimum, but the way Heavy had just done so had her feeling a way.
Not only had he taken it upon himself to place her order without asking what she wanted, but he also ignored her statement, telling him it was okay not to.
If she wanted some chicken, that’s what he was getting her. Another nigga would’ve told her okay and to enjoy the rest of her shift. Maybe. Heavy wasn’t other niggas. He was nothing like them, and if Cyren was unsure about him before, she had somewhat of an understanding now.
“Hello,” Heavy said as he pulled up to the window behind a white Malibu with expired temp tags. Two other cars were in front of it.
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“I was just checking. You got all quiet, but I bet that belly growling,” he teased.
Cyren laughed. “Shut up. It is now. How’d you know I’d eat Popeyes?”
“The way you were smashing that chicken the other night, I knew you’d eat this.”
“I was drunk!” she said, her voice squeaking as she defended herself. “For some reason, food always tastes better when you’ve been drinking.”
Heavy chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Send me the address to your job right quick. I’ma head that way when I leave here.”
Thankfully, she had an hour lunch break. Adding his number to her contacts before she could text him, Cyren began storing it under the name ‘Heavy’ but erased it and typed out his government name. Smiling, she saved it, then copied and pasted her job’s address and sent it.
“Okay. I just texted it to you. You didn’t want anything to eat?” she asked.
“Nah. I ain’t really in the mood for food. Gotta taste for something else.”
Cyren gulped and thanked God they weren’t on FaceTime. He would’ve seen how easily his words affected her.
“Oh…okay. Well, I’ll see you when you get here. Thank you,” she quickly said, her words running together in a way that made Heavy grin.
It wasn’t a cocky gesture but more so one of appreciation. He liked making her flustered. Liked knowing he could pull reactions out of her without even touching her. Heavy hoped she caught on to what he was insinuating without taking it as disrespect. If she wanted him to eat anything, it’d be her.
“A’ight. I’m not too far away,” he said. “I’ll call you when I’m outside so you can come out.”
“Um,” Cyren hesitated, “I’m already outside.”
“You just sitting in the car?” Heavy asked, mind wandering.
“Yes. I was going to get some food, and then you texted me, playing on my phone.”
Truthfully, she’d forgotten all about grabbing something to eat once she and Gabi got on the phone. He had interrupted their yap session at the perfect time, honestly.
“A’ight. I’ll take the blame,” he accepted. “It ain’t safe to just be sitting in your car like that, either.”
Cyren frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “That’s not a valid reason.”
“It’s the only one you getting.”
“Very controlling.”