Chapter 11 #3
Gabi’s snicker did nothing but piss Skylar off more. Mugging them both, she mumbled obscenities under her breath before stomping back down the hallway. Cyren could’ve fallen out laughing when Nia shrugged.
“Guess she didn’t want to look. Y’all have fun and be safe tonight,” Nia said.
Cyren told her they would and walked out of the house. Gabi laughed all the way to the car, knowing Skylar was going to be pissed for the rest of the night.
Heavy didn’t care for the club.
The crowds, the obnoxiously loud music, overpriced drinks, and niggas who always felt the need to approach him, were played out.
He enjoyed it back in his younger days, and he was still young, but this wasn’t his scene anymore.
It was a rare occasion, though. Mhazi, one of his cousins, had flown into town to handle some business.
This was more of a celebratory outing, if nothing else.
While he was making strides to flip over a new leaf, an opportunity fell into his lap that Heavy wasn’t passing up.
Leaving the streets was one thing. Knowing he’d be making just as much money not being in them was the determining factor.
He still needed a bit more convincing and a few more zeroes to his accounts, but Mhazi and Nash weren’t letting up.
So, they were right there with him, including Mesha and one of her friends.
Heavy stood posted in their section, with his back angled against the wall.
His eyes moved around the dark club while listening to Mhazi rap EST Gee beside him.
Mesha and her friend were already halfway through their drinks and up dancing.
“I’m over this shit,” Nash said, looking around like he’d seen enough already.
Heavy didn’t say anything.
“Swear to God I am,” Nash continued, gesturing out toward the crowd. “Look at this shit. Ain’t no type of decorum in here. All these young-ass girls. Some of ‘em wearing tennis shoes. Niggas got hoodies on in the club. Fucking hoodies, cuz.”
He was so disgusted it wasn’t funny. Heavy smirked while Mhazi chuckled and said, “You acting like an old head complaining and shit.”
Nash shrugged. “I don’t care. If I’ma spend my money somewhere, it needs to be up to my standards. A hoe bet not walk up to me with some Jordans on, trying to talk. I’ma dap her ass up and keep it moving.”
Mhazi shook his head, sipping from the Hennessy and Coke in his hand. “Nah, I feel you though. It’s always like this?”
Where he was from, and the places he let his presence be known in, were nothing like this. People stepped correctly and knew if they didn’t, their asses weren’t allowed inside the establishment. That’s what Nash wanted to be on.
“Yeah. Heavy don’t go out for real, so he don’t have a clue,” Nash said.
Heavy finally added some words to the conversation. “So, what you trying to do? Invest in some new shit?”
In his mind, that was the only option. Or Nash could stay his ass at home. There was no use in talking about something if niggas didn’t have a solution.
“I ain’t against it,” Nash said, mind working. “A lounge or something more laidback with a strict dress code and age requirement.”
It was doable. Heavy was already calculating how much money it’d make off a small investment. If his cousin was serious, Heavy was all in. Nash carried on, explaining how it’d be a good look for the city, but Heavy had tuned him out. His eyes were locked on Cyren across the room.
He watched as she flipped her natural hair off her shoulder, which was out and wild in loose curls.
Heavy spotted the glow of her skin from his section.
It was just as bright as her smile as she laughed at something Gabi whispered in her ear.
Seeing her smile caused the weird feeling, Heavy had been experiencing in his chest, to resurface.
It’d been faint before she spent the night at his crib but was now prominent, making itself known.
Whenever Cyren was on his mind, and even when she wasn’t, she was tugging at his wire heartstrings.
“You good?” Mhazi asked, peeping his cousin’s concentration.
He wasn’t sure what it was on, but Heavy had completely zoned out.
The nigga who bumped into Cyren the first time, obviously couldn’t take a hint.
He was trying to get her attention the same way Marc had.
Another lame attempt. Another lame nigga thinking he could approach what should’ve never even been in his line of vision in the first place.
Cyren was out of every nigga’s league in there.
She was in Heavy’s, making up her own regulations and calling the shots.
Even from afar, she had Heavy’s undivided attention.
He rubbed his fist, brushing over his once bruised knuckles.
They’d finally healed from beating a nigga’s ass weeks ago, but he didn’t mind damaging them again.
He watched as Cyren told the dude it was okay, thinking it was an accident, but Heavy knew better.
He had plenty of space to stand around her and not purposefully keep brushing up against her.
Heavy gritted his teeth when Cyren shifted the second time it happened.
The subtle step she took to the side and the look she gave Bre made him wait.
Don’t cause a scene, Heavy tried telling himself, but it all went out the window when the nigga bumped into her again. He moved so abruptly out of their section and down the steps, Mhazi’s hand went to his hip.
“Aye, cuz. What’s up?”
People shifted out of his way without Heavy having to say a word. He didn’t think twice before shoving the nigga with just enough force to stumble, making him spill his drink. Heavy’s hand settled gently on Cyren’s lower back as he moved her to the side some.
“Yo, what the fuck, man?” the dude groaned, looking down at his stained shirt and half-empty cup.
“You don’t fucking see her standing right here?” Heavy sneered so eerily calm that the hairs on Cyren’s arms stood up.
The guy looked at Cyren and gulped, realizing he’d fucked up. “I-I—” he began, stuttering, but was cut off.
“Take yo ass on somewhere or you ain’t gon’ be able to see shit but the back of your eyelids.”
Still trying to compose himself and make sense of what happened, the dude walked off.
Heavy’s nostrils flared as people stared at him, chuckling at how he’d just embarrassed someone.
He’d made his message clear without having to even raise his voice.
Utterly confused, but turned on even more, Cyren touched his bicep.
Heavy glanced her way and took a deep breath.
“Hey,” Cyren cooed, smiling. “Relax. I’m fine.”
Clenching his jaw, Heavy licked his lips and exhaled, visibly calming down from her touch. Her words, not so much. “You sure?” he asked.
Cyren nodded. “Yes. I was just about to cuss him out and look at you coming to save the day.”
Heavy didn’t find shit funny about a grown-ass man being disrespectful to his woman or any woman. On any level, he was going to intervene and let Cyren save her words for something much more useful. Like telling him why she didn’t have any panties on underneath those little ass shorts.
Gripping her ass cheek, Heavy pressed himself against her and leaned into whisper in her ear. “Don’t get fucked up. Where your panties at?”
“I have on a thong, baby,” she answered, giggling.
Wanting confirmation, Heavy discreetly— or what he thought was discreet— slid his hand up her shorts and in between her cheeks. Smirking once he felt the string of material, then fixed her shorts and kissed her cheek.
Cyren’s eyes were wide. “Rashaun...I know you did not just do that.”
“I did. Do something,” Heavy said, grinning. He’d literally eaten her ass the day before, so his hand sliding up it was nothing.
All Cyren could do was shake her head. “You’re too much. I didn’t know you were coming out.”
They’d talked earlier in the day, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about the club.
“I didn’t either. Last-minute shit with my cousins,” Heavy explained.
Cyren peeked around him, landing her eyes on Nash and Mhazi. They were introducing themselves to Gabi and Bre. Noticing a woman approach them with a frown on her face, Cyren hoped she didn’t have to beat someone’s ass tonight. She was a lover more than a fighter but her hands still worked.
“Boy, don’t be rushing out of the section like that. I thought something was wrong,” Mesha said, fixing her dress.
“My bad. Had to handle something,” Heavy offered.
Mesha pursed her lips and smiled. “Mhm. You must be Cyren.”
“I am,” Cyren said, not giving her a smile yet. “And you are?”
Laughing, Mesha nodded. “Oh. I like you. I’m Heavy’s sister, Mesha. Nice to finally meet you, girl.”
Only then did she smile. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said, then poked Heavy in his side. “Finally, huh? You been talking about me?”
“Girl,” Mesha exaggerated, ready to tell all his business.
“A’ight. Y’all met. Exchange numbers and shit later. Come on.”
Laughing, Cyren took his outstretched hand, letting him lead them and her girls back to their section.
While she was interested in knowing what Heavy had told his sister, she’d wait until they were in private to get details.
She took a seat while Heavy stood by the rail, bobbing his head.
He looked delicious in his black-striped embroidered-motif MAG.
Co. shirt, black denim, and locs pulled back into a bun.
The set of diamonds on the bottom row of his teeth was just as real as the ones dancing on his watch and in his ear.
Catching her gaze, Heavy leaned down, unconsciously rubbing her back. “You ready to go?”
“No. I was just checking you out. You look nice.”
Making him blush would forever be in Cyren’s favor.
“Thank you, baby. You looking fine, too. Skin glowing. Got your thighs and titties out. I see you.”
Heavy caressed her soft skin, inhaling her scent.
It was a spicy, powdery, floral blend that made him want to eat her ass up in the worst way.
Heavy was craving her as if they hadn’t been spending almost every day together.
Cyren had gotten so used to waking up at his crib and having him drop her off at work, that on the days she did drive, she was pouting the entire ride.
Heavy was spoiling her in the worst way, and Cyren was falling fast.
The DJ smoothly transitioned to a slow jam for the ladies, making Cyren stand from the couch.
Seductively, she swayed her hips, snapping her fingers while Toosii she did have to use the restroom, but she also wanted to get away from him so she could check her feelings.
Motioning for Gabi to come here, they clasped hands and moved through the crowd and down the steps.
“He fucks with Tish?” Gabi asked as they waited in the short line.
So, that’s Tish. Cyren now had a face to match the name that called him that day in her aunt’s driveway. She hadn’t crossed her mind since.
“I don’t know. Who is she?”
“This cold stripper that works at Facade.” Of course, Gabi knew who she was and what she did.
“Mm,” was all Cyren grunted, trying to seem unfazed, but her heart was saying otherwise. It was doing somersaults and not in the happy-go-lucky way.
“Get out of those feelings,” Gabi said as they entered the restroom. “You know a nigga gon’ always be a nigga.”
She had a point, but why did it have to be Heavy?
And why did Tish have to approach them and ruin the illusion she had in her head?
Single people doing not-so-single people things with each other were bound to get their feelings hurt.
It didn’t matter how close they’d grown; Cyren wasn’t his, and he wasn’t hers.
As she emptied her bladder, she begged her emotions to get on the same page as her mind, because right now, they were betraying her in the worst way.