Chapter 14
You never told me your favorite color,” Charlie said.
“You know mine, but you never said yours.” Charlie liked details and when it came to Demi, she knew very little.
They were accumulating big moments, sex mostly, and although that was good, she wanted to get to know him.
The trivial things made the grandiose moments make more sense and as they drove up the highway headed toward Detroit, she chipped away at him.
“Black,” Demi answered without thinking.
“Black? That’s not like a real color,” Charlie said, laughing. “That’s the color people pick when they don’t have a favorite color. It’s like a default answer.”
“Says you,” Demi said. “That’s my answer, though.”
Charlie’s heart fluttered as they rode down the highway, pushing 90 in the 70 zone, but neither cared. He drove like he did everything— fast... it was just the pace of their relationship.
“Black is so sad, though. Like it lacks life. They bury you in black, Demi!” she argued.
“My skin is black, Bird. My mama is black. A nigga heart was black too. It’s a little gray now, though, since you,” he admitted. “You coming in adding too much color in my space.”
“Good,” she answered. He heard the satisfaction in her tone.
“Favorite food?” she quizzed.
Demi slouched in his seat, thinking, always overthinking, even at the simplest question.
“I can’t answer that yet,” he said.
“What? How can you not know your favorite food?” she asked, frowning.
“I ain’t had you on my plate yet.”
Charlie had to turn her eyes out the window.
“Soon, though. I’ma taste it real soon,” he added.
The bite to his lip told her he could not wait, and Charlie blushed.
He made her feel like she was 16 and this was her first crush.
She didn’t know if it was their age difference or if he was just out of her league, but Demi made Charlie feel like the prettiest girl in the world. “I bet it’s good too.” he added.
Her cheeks might as well had gone up in flames.
“You’re so mannish,” she whispered.
A deep laugh filled the car and her heart at the same time.
“What’s the thing in your life that hurt you the most?” she asked.
The entire mood in the car changed.
Demi didn’t answer this time. He turned up the music, her choice because Charlie just liked touching shit, his body, his buttons, mental and the ones in the car.
She didn’t push because she knew she would also have to share her greatest pain. It was a bad question for someone to answer so soon. She backed off as her playlist filled the car.
She hummed, petting Bails’ head which rested between her thighs, as Demi drove. Even his silence felt divine. It was like she had been his girl since forever. This was comfortable.
He lowered the music and she stopped singing.
“Nah, you keep going. I want to hear you sing, Bird,” he said.
And so, she did. Humming lazily, as they sped south on I-75.
“If you can show me loveee somehow, we don’t need to have a label,” she half sang, half hummed.
Demi wondered how she did it, how she mastered his emotion every time she sang.
How lyrics to random songs fit what he was hiding inside his chest for her.
Love with no labels. That’s what they were.
She didn’t want them. He had expected her to.
What kind of bitch don’t want to put a label on it? He thought.
It was then he knew Charlie had the upper hand. He cared. She didn’t seem to. He was bothered.
They arrived at a high-rise Chrysler building in the middle of Downtown Detroit.
“What’s in here?” she asked.
“Birds fly baby. Come on,” he said. They exited and Charlie leaned her head against his arm, lacing her arm through his as she dragged Bails to the elevator. They ascended and her ears popped as the open-air elevator gave her a view of the entire city and the Detroit River.
“Wow,” she whispered.
The wind greeted them as they stepped off and a helicopter sat on the roof.
Bails began barking at the machine and Charlie turned to Demi.
“I know you don’t think I’m getting in that thing,” she said. “I hate heights, Demi.”
“Spiders, heights, what else? I’m trying to know it all.”
Her heart was pounding, and he could see her fear.
“Trust me, Bird. I got you,” he said. She nodded and fought the urge to throw up as she walked up the stairs to the helicopter.
Demi smacked her ass as she climbed up, but Charlie was too afraid to feel anything other than annoyance.
She swatted his hand and then turned to find Bails staring up at her.
“My man, you gon’ have to put the dog up there. I don’t fuck with the dog thing like that,” Demi instructed the second pilot.
The pilot laughed. “No problem, Mr. Sky.” The man handed Charlie her dog and Demi climbed up last. They put headphones on, and Charlie braced herself.
Holding on to her seat for dear life with one hand and gripping Demi’s wrist with the other.
She felt the helicopter lift from the building, and she panicked.
“No, Demi, no, no, no, I don’t like it,” she said.
“Relax, Bird,” he said. He placed a hand over the one gripping her wrist and then pulled her into his lap.
“Open your eyes, baby,” he said.
Charlie pursed her lips, taking labored breaths.
“Trust ya man, Bird.” He almost gritted his teeth after he said it.
Her man. He was setting the expectation in her heart that he belonged with her.
It was a pedestal that he wouldn’t stand on long because his situation at home wouldn’t allow it.
He now regretted walking out of Lauren’s office.
Her eyes popped open and Charlie was in instant awe.
“Oh my God, Demi!” she exclaimed.
It was incredible. The wind in her hair, the powerful hum of the engine as the blades whipped above them. It was a rush like nothing she had ever felt.
“Can I burn you, babe?” she asked into the headset. The second pilot looked back in confusion as Demi pinched her chin between his fingertips and pulled her lips to his.
“That’s some burn,” the pilot said, his voice coming through their headsets.
Charlie laughed and Demi replied, “The very best kind, my man.”
“I’m in love with you,” Charlie said.
“So, act like it,” he said. Demi was a grudge holder.
The disagreement from the night before was still heavy on his mind.
Her choosing of Justin over him. His willingness to choose her over his wife, but her not giving the same energy in return, unnerved him.
He was perturbed that she had that much power over him so soon.
Not even Lauren could change his mood so easily.
“So, you not gon’ say it back?” she asked, jerking her neck back.
“I’m in love with you, man,” he said, stubbornly.
“Then act like it, nigga,” she snapped, climbing from his lap and going back to her own seat. Temperamental. Demi and Charlie were finicky as ever. Fucking and fighting. A recipe for disaster.
Their tension kept them silent as the helicopter landed after an hour tour around the city.
Charlie looked out her window to see the catered table and personal waiter that had been arranged on the rooftop. She wanted to go soft, but she was with whatever vibe he was bringing, and he had an attitude, so fuck it.
She didn’t even acknowledge the setup as he climbed out the helicopter. When he didn’t turn to help her, Charlie’s chest flared in rage. She took off her shoe and threw it at his back.
Demi was on her ass, turning, and pulling her from the helicopter as Bails barked like, “Don’t forget about me too.”
“Don’t let your attitude get you fucked up,” he threatened.
“You’re being mean to me,” she said. She was a pout away from splitting his heart wide open.
He would have to walk light with this girl.
He would fuck around and spoil her in ways he had never imagined spoiling anyone.
Charlie would walk all over him whenever they disagreed if she poked her lip out like she was now.
It was a secret weapon or something. Demi hated it.
“You fucking that nigga from the club?” he asked.
Oh, the ways men made up shit in their heads. Demi’s jealousy could no longer take a back seat.
“If I was, I wouldn’t be fucking you,” Charlie said. “If I wanted him, I wouldn’t be here with hurt feelings over you.”
Demi blew out a sharp breath, nostrils flaring, face serious. He looked off to the side. Charlie turned his head back to her. “Stay here with me, babe,” she said.
“Your hands, Bird. You been touching every fucking thing.” He grimaced.
“Oh my God! Somebody get this weird nigga some sanitizer!” she exclaimed, letting him go and turning toward the helicopter to get Bails.
Charlie turned and Demi was there. In her space. Looming over her. He was so damn intimidating.
“You think I’m a ho or something,” she said. “First the doctor’s records and now thinking I’m sleeping with Justin. It’s hella disrespectful how you keep coming at me.”
Demi kneeled in front of her, grabbing her shoe and then placing it on her foot, before standing.
He was so close to her that his cologne invaded her space.
A magic potion, dizzying her. Demi smelled like he was made of crisp, clean water, bergamot, and money.
It was intoxicating and she hated how her heart raced, especially in the middle of a fight because she couldn’t stand her ground.