Chapter 10
The minute Liv ended the call with Lex, she turned to me with an inquisitive look plastered across her face.
“What?” I finally asked.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Nigga, what the hell was all of that about?”
“All of what?”
She sucked her teeth. “Don’t play with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Where in the hell did all that lovey-dovey shit come from? Whatchu been back in your room doing? Watching The Notebook or some shit?”
“Y’all asses needed help, so I helped. That’s it. And that’s all,” I replied, shrugging her off just as the microwave dinged with my plate of steaming hot leftovers.
My sister rolled her eyes skyward, signaling that she called bullshit on my answer. “I don’t believe that for one bit.”
“You think I care what yo’ bigheaded ass believes?”
“Mm-hmm, nigga.”
“Mm-hmm nothin’. Don’t you got a shift to get ready for?” I probed, trying to change the subject.
“Don’t worry about me. We’re talking about you and this love jones you’ve managed to get overnight.”
“Again, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I bet you don’t. But okay, keep playing dumb about it.”
“Whatever. Can I eat in peace before I need to start getting dressed? I have plans tonight.”
“Plans? What kind of plans could a nigga with no life possibly have?”
My brows creased. “I’m goin’ out to dinner with Yasmine.”
Liv’s forehead scrunched up. “Who the hell is Yasmine?”
“You remember my ex from college? I brought her home that one Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, then y’all broke up by St. Patrick’s Day, right?” She giggled.
“So?”
“Since when did you two rekindle?”
“We ain’t rekindle; we’re just cool. That’s all.”
“So she’s not the one who’s got you walking around here sounding like Cupid shot an arrow straight up your ass?”
“Maybe she is, maybe she ain’t,” I said coolly, trying to throw her off my trail even though I already knew what was up between us.
Grabbing drinks with her was exactly the distraction I needed after everything went south with Lex at the bridal shop, so I didn’t mind seeing her again for dinner.
Besides, Lex had made things clear that she was moving forward with her wedding come hell or high water, and even though I’d made it clear to Yasmine that I wasn’t looking to commit, I couldn’t help but wonder if I should’ve reconsidered.
Two days before the wedding.
Closing day had arrived. After signing my name what felt like a hundred different times on over a few dozen documents, the realtor finally handed me the keys to my brand-new home.
I couldn’t help but split my face with a smile.
Even though deep down, I was still licking my wounds about how things ended between Lex and me.
At least I could say that a part of me felt like I could breathe a little easier after saying those vows to her.
Even though I knew they’d never be real, the feelings behind them were.
It was better to let her go and live the life she wanted to and be with whoever she wanted to be with, rather than force her to be on the same page with me, let alone the same book.
It was best to focus on myself and my new chapter. That’s it. And that’s all.
I spent the rest of the day at the store gathering basic supplies, such as paper products, sheets, pillows, laundry detergent, and other items for the main bathroom and kitchen.
Until my new furniture arrived, I would be posted up on a king-size air mattress.
After pulling up to my house, I got a text from Xavier, reminding me of the time and name of the club where he’d be celebrating his birthday later.
As much as I wanted to remain in my comfort zone and do shit most people did when they moved into an empty house—lay out an oversized blanket and eat pizza on the living room floor.
I wasn’t in the mood to be around a bunch of drunk-ass niggas tryna holla at everything walking, but I decided to go anyway to celebrate my own victory.
After all, it wasn’t every day I closed on my first home.
I needed to enjoy the moment and take my victory lap.
I replied to him, and my phone dinged with a congratulations text from Yasmine.
After having dinner with her, it became clear to me that no matter if Lex never wanted to be with me, I couldn’t settle for Yasmine.
She was beautiful and all, but aside from talking about her job as an attorney and shamelessly flirting with me all night, she had nothing else to talk about.
To me, beauty without substance was futile.
So if I hadn’t made it clear to her before, I definitely made it clear then that we wouldn’t surpass the friend zone.
Later that night, around half past ten, I sauntered into the club dressed to look good but blend in simultaneously.
A black satin button-down to show off the gold chain around my neck and the tattoo inked across my collarbone, and black jeans with my two-tone black and white Jordan 11 Retro Concords with the rubber outsole.
I didn’t want to be the flashiest person in the room.
In fact, I usually did everything I could to avoid the spotlight.
But I also wasn’t goin’ to show up looking like a fuckin’ bum.
By midnight, the club’s attendance had swollen in size, packed from wall-to-wall.
For the most part, I sat back and watched the scene—niggas getting turned down trying to find their wifey for the night, females in tight clothes and heels trying their best to get chose, and people drinking and spending way beyond their limit knowin’ damn well they couldn’t hold their liquor or pay their bills on time.
“Happy birthday, X,” I called out to Xavier over the loud music.
“Thanks again for comin’ out, bro,” he replied, dapping me up.
I shook my head. “I can’t believe yo’ ass got me out here in the club like we twenty years old again or somethin’.”
He shrugged playfully. “Hey, at least we got a whole section to ourselves now and ain’t have to wait outside in that long ass line like everybody else.”
“You right about that,” I answered as my eyes snaked along every baddie shaking ass on the dance floor.
“See somethin’ you like out there?” Xavier quipped while gently elbowing my side.
“Nah. I ain’t gon’ find no wifey material in here.”
“How’s the new house shit going?”
“Great. I closed earlier today,” I announced with a proud smile.
Xavier’s thick brows heightened toward his crisp hairline. “Word? That’s wassup! Congratulations! We gotta drink to that,” X replied, raising his shot glass. “To grown man shit.”
“To grown man shit,” I replied, clinking my shot glass against his before tossing the tequila down the back of my throat. It burned all the way down to the pit of my stomach.
“Now, let’s get lit in this mothafucka!”
I was cool on shots for the rest of the night and decided to head to the bar to grab a beer instead of waiting around for one of the bottle girls to reappear.
“Go ahead. I’ll be back,” I stated.
A few minutes later, I was posted up at the bar, minding my business, while waiting on the bartender to bring me my beer, when a woman brushed up against my arm. It was a packed club, so initially, I didn’t think anything of it until she spoke up.
“You’re cute,” she announced. “You should buy me a drink.”
I twisted my neck enough to look her up and down with my eyes.
She was cute—slim, thick build, probably around five feet two, but the heels she had on gave her a few extra inches.
I wasn’t feeling the dramatic ass lashes she had glued to her eyes, though.
She could’ve been a runway model, and at the end of the day, she wasn’t Lex.
I was convinced she would be a hard one to get over.
No other woman had even come close. “Nah. I’m good. ”
She smacked her teeth. “Leave it to another Chicago nigga to break a Southern girl’s heart. But it’s whatever. I can buy my own drink. I really don’t need you.”
“Cool.”
She fluttered her long lashes my way as she dramatically rolled her eyes. “It’s whatever. I didn’t wanna come out tonight anyway. Knew these Chicago niggas was gon’ be wack ever since I seen what my girl been dealing with.”
I could tell she was trying to bait me into having a conversation with her, but I continued to wait for my beer in silence. She smacked her lips again before sighing at the lack of attention she was receiving from me, although I was actively listening.
“Anyway,” she continued with an exaggerated eye roll that almost made me chuckle. “She dragged me all the way out here to confront her damn baby daddy.”
“They got a kid?” I found myself asking, but unsure why.
“About to in a few months.”
“She’s pregnant?”
“Yup, six months.”
“And she’s here in this smoky ass club?” I challenged in a judgmental tone.
“She’s desperate. It was the only way to get his attention.
He’s got her blocked everywhere. That lil light-skinned nigga is a demon, let me tell you.
Once their lil situation got out at work, he got her fired from the airline they worked at by reporting her as a stalker, then blocked her number and all over social media.
Now you tell me that ain’t foul after you let a nigga hit it raw and shoot up your club. ”
“Damn.”
Her mouth hadn’t stopped moving since she approached me, but I became more interested once she mentioned that the fuck boy in question worked for an airline. I knew the world was small, but I didn’t think it would be that damn tiny. Would it?
“Damn. That’s fucked up. How he do that? He the boss or something?”
“I mean, he’s a pilot there, and once he reported her to HR, they wasted no time letting her go.”
“Firing a pregnant woman sounds like a big-ass lawsuit to me.”