Chapter 19 #2
Bryce leaned back, jaw clenched, already knowing I wasn’t gonna let that slide.
I halted my steps. My patience with that bitch was past thinning; it was exfoliated, steamed, and scraped clean off like a layer of dead skin.
I turned to Isis with my chin tilted just enough to be rude.
“And you’re so pressed, it’s embarrassing,” I quipped, my voice smooth but slicing.
“You keep popping slick like you’re relevant, talkin’ like somebody threatened by you.
Girl, don’t flatter yourself. I don’t give a damn about you.
Now I don’t know what type of female you take me for, but I’m not the bitch any hoe can bully.
You showed up with sweaters, expectations, and audacity; I showed up with peace.
But the moment you started talkin’ sideways, you invited the old me.
And guess what? She still got hands, vocab, and scriptures…
and she’ll show you real quick how a laugh can turn into a lesson and a prayer can turn into a punch. ”
Isis blinked like she didn’t expect me to clap back like that.
Rookie mistake.
“Oh, shit,” Adrian said, mid-bite of a marshmallow he was toasting with a lighter. “Somebody hold my beer and my Bluetooth speaker.”
“Chess…” Bryce warned.
He knew when in that mode, I could go from zero to ‘snatch-a-wig-and-still-make-the-soup-simmer’ real fast.
“No, Bryce! I’m not backing down this time! Ain’t no hands about to be thrown or wigs about to cartwheel across this cabin like tumbleweeds,” I reassured calmly. “But you did say we had a five-minute argument time limit, right?”
He nodded. “I did.”
“Exactly! So let me go ahead and clock in, ‘cause clearly it’s some shit she needs to hear! And once I say what I gotta say, I’m done! You can keep talking to the steam, the bubbles, or the damn wall for all I care, but you won’t be talking to me!”
I took one step closer, demeanor untouchable.
“You up here bragging about matching sweaters to a man who clearly doesn’t even match your energy; hell, he probably barely matches your texts.
See, I ain’t one of these ‘matching-sweater, Starbucks-in-the-snow’ type girls trying to finesse my way into a man’s cabin.
That ain’t my ministry.” I smirked. “But if I wanted him? Hmph! Matching sweaters wouldn’t be needed; we’d be matching moans.
He’d be spooning me like I’m Sunday peach cobbler, and waking up talking ‘bout, ‘We should’ve never broke up!”
“Shit, I’d take a moan right now,” Adrian muttered from the corner, tossing a mini marshmallow in his mouth.
“A little whimper, a soft grunt. Hell, Chesteria, breathe on me if you got to… even if it’s ‘Ugh, Adrian, you get on my nerves’.
Just say it slow, and I’ll fake the rest.” Adrian sighed and closed his eyes like he was imagining it.
I didn’t even offer him the courtesy of a side-eye.
I turned back to Isis. “Then… you can’t even cook.” I chuckled. “Let’s start there. Girl, I had that man licking curry off my wrist and calling his mama about it! Stop trying to reheat soup you don’t know how to season!”
I paced a half step like I was testifying at the altar.
“You think because he let you come, that means you’re special?
He probably just didn’t feel like arguing with your ‘Pick me please’ ass.
Half of y’all females swear you're wifey material, but the only ring you know is a smoke detector going off when you’re trying to make toast!
You probably can’t even fuck him right! You look like you moan like a cartoon character—‘Oop! Ah! Eee!’ Meanwhile, I had that man speaking in tongues.
He blacked out one night and told me he saw his future in my thighs.
And you think a trip to the mountains gon’ make him forget me?
” I scoffed. “Answer this. Does he still close his eyes during sex sometimes?”
I cut my eyes toward Bryce, who was biting his bottom lip, jaw flexing like he remembered everything.
“If he does, I wonder who he’s picturing? Girl, I know his demons; you know his vacation playlist. You might’ve gotten a cabin trip, sis, and that’s by a technicality. But don’t forget, I’m part owner of this muthafucka.”
I let that marinate, then hit her with the rest like I was laying floor tile with my words.
“So technically, you’re a guest in a house I picked, paid for, designed, and made unforgettable just by being in it.
Every detail from the heated floors you tiptoe on, to the custom marble you keep wiping your off-brand moisturizer on, screams me, not you.
You walking around in a space my presence made luxurious, like you’re the main character, when hunnie, you’re barely a footnote. ”
I gave a faux sweet smile.
“Oh… and it’s looking real bad outside, and you’re too many miles away from mattering. And if you don’t know, wolves don’t play nice with visitors. Just something to think about while you’re trying to be funny and shit.”
Isis’s smirk melted quickly. Her eyes darted like she was looking for a lifeline, silently wishing she’d left well enough alone.
I slid my robe on tighter like I was sealing a deal with God.
“Now… it looks like we’ll be spending another day or three together—heaven forbid. So let me advise you,” I leaned in just enough to make her uncomfortable, “Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone. Now enjoy your little trip while it lasts… because you’ll never get invited back.”
With nothing else to say, I strutted off the way bad bitches exit when they’re officially out of grace, patience, fucks to give, and a single ounce of tolerance.
I’m one of the nicest people anybody could ever meet. So if I’m ever mean to someone, trust me, they earned that shit.