Chapter 17
JASMINE MILLER
Cash wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t coming up off me. I’d been holed up in his house for two days, living off takeout, orgasms, and wearing his t-shirts that were two sizes too big for me.
He took me back to my place yesterday to grab a few things, but truth be told, I liked wearing his clothes—they smelled like him. Same way I liked waking up tangled in his sheets with his arms around me.
Jelani called earlier, trying to convince him to come out to the club. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it—last time I was there, I ended up throwing hands.
“But you also met me that night,” Cash said, flashing me a grin.
I tried every excuse I could to get out of it—said I didn’t have anything to wear. He shut that down real quick, said I could show up in a trash bag and still look better than half the chicks in there.
When I told him to go without me, he looked at me like I’d said I was fleeing the state.
“I’d rather be laid up with you, but I gotta show my face tonight,” he said, kissing me deeply. “And if I’m going out, I want you with me. Period.”
“I’m sure you can be seen without me,” I said, soaping myself up. We’d just finished another round of intense lovemaking and were showering before heading out.
“I wanna show you off,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. His chin rested on top of my head as the steam curled around us.
I sighed, leaning into him. “I can’t be out all night. I gotta go back to work eventually.” I’d already called out today, and it was looking like tomorrow too.
“Or you could just quit,” he suggested, like it was that simple.
I rolled my eyes, wriggling out of his grasp to scrub my body. “I can’t just quit. And I thought you said you didn’t want a kept woman.”
“I don’t want a kept baby mama,” he corrected, lathering his washcloth. “But I’m tryna keep you.”
My hands stilled, feeling a lump rise in my throat. He was just caught up in the moment. Probably still high off the sex.
Swallowing it down, I forced a laugh. “Now you’re just talking shit.”
“Hm. You don’t even like Peachtree—ain’t your contract up soon? You can just quit until you find something new.”
My chest tightened. I hadn’t told him I’d been contemplating moving back to New York after my contract ended.
“I didn’t even text Monica to see if she was going,” I said, changing the subject.
He hummed, stepping under the other shower head to rinse off.
Cash wrapped a towel around himself when we were done and headed into his closet. I followed, drying myself off and rubbing body oil into my skin. I slipped into my underwear and grabbed my phone off the nightstand.
Hey, boo. You coming to Mansion tonight?
Monica: Thinking about it. Lani been working my nerves though.
When is he not? Just come on so we can talk shit.
A few seconds later, my phone lit up with an incoming call.
“Bitch,” Monica greeted me when I picked up. “Why you acting like you not finna be up under Money all night since y’all together now?”
I sucked my teeth. “Whatever. He don’t run me.”
“Yeah, aight,” she tutted. “We’ll see. But fine, I’ll come out. Maybe I’ll find a new nigga and rub it in Lani’s face.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing that she was holding out hope that Jelani would get his shit together and stop being a fuck boy.
“You know you can just block him right?”
Monica groaned. “Yeah, yeah. Alright, I’ll see you in a bit,” she said before hanging up.
I rummaged through my duffle bag and settled on a denim short romper and paired it with white knee-high boots. I quickly did my makeup, slicked down my edges, and wrangled my thick curls into a bun.
Cash came out of his closet in dark jeans and a forest green knit shirt, adjusting the Patek on his wrist. The way his fabric clung to his muscles and the tattoos that snaked up his arms made me pause. Every time he walked into a room, he owned it without even trying.
“You look good,” I said, giving him a once-over.
He gave me that cocky smile, showing off his open face grills. “You look better,” he said, licking his lips. “But you gotta stop looking at me like that, Jas.”
I bit my lip, holding his stare in the mirror. The clean, spicy scent of his cologne wrapped around me, hitting me so hard I was damn near drooling.
“What you mean?”
“I mean, I’mma end up tossin’ you on this bed if you don’t quit it,” he said, stepping up behind me. “And I know you’d love that. Too bad Hassan’s already here. You ready?”
“I can’t believe you just have a driver on call like that,” I said as we went downstairs.
Cash shrugged. “It’s better than dealing with a car service.”
Outside, Hassan stood by the black G-Wagon, giving Cash a nod as we approached.
“Money,” Hassan greeted, dapping Cash up before turning to me with a smile. “Jasmine.” He said my name like we’d known each other for years, even though it was our first time meeting. I wasn’t surprised. I was sure everyone in Cash’s circle knew about me by now.
Cash helped me into the truck, his hand found my thigh as soon as his seatbelt was on. As Hassan backed out of the driveway, my phone vibrated.
I glanced at the screen, and my stomach dropped.
It was Marcus.
I shoved it back into my bag before Cash could see. I had no intention of calling him back. The car he bought sat untouched in my spot. I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to deal with him and dead this shit completely. But not tonight.
Right now, I was focused on how good things were and leaning into that. Resting my head on Cash’s shoulder, I laced my fingers in his as the downtown Atlanta skyline came into view.
* * *
Mansion was packed when we pulled up. Cash got out and exchanged a few words with Hassan after he parked. He came around to help me out, and I felt eyes on us as we bypassed the line and walked straight to the entrance.
Cash kept a firm grip on me as we moved through the tight bodies toward the short flight of stairs that led to VIP. This section was smaller than the one at Palladium—fewer people, less privacy. I spotted Slim and Fontaine chilling on a couch.
“Aww shit.” Jelani popped up, grinning. He hugged Cash, then slung an arm over my shoulder, pulling me aside. “You know we basically related now, right?”
I raised a brow. “How you figure?”
“‘Cause you’re officially my brother’s girl, and you met Ma. That’s major—he doesn’t just bring anybody to meet her.”
I laughed, playing along. “Is that so?”
“Yup,” he nodded like it was gospel.
I looked around. “Where’s Monica?”
Jelani jerked his head toward the restroom. “She’s been in there for a minute. I think she’s mad at me.”
“What’d you do now?” I asked just as Cash’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me back into his orbit. “What you drinking, baby?”
“Tequila soda,” I said, smiling.
He kissed my forehead and went to find a bottle girl.
Monica came stomping out of the restroom, swatting Jelani’s hand away when he reached for her.
“Girl, come dance with me before I smack this stupid boy,” she huffed, grabbing my wrist.
I glanced at Jelani as she pulled me toward the stairs. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he knew he fucked up. I shook my head as we headed down into the sea of people.
The DJ was playing an early 2010s mix that had me feeling nostalgic. We found a little space to move, hyping each other up as we started dancing. She turned and started twerking on me. I grabbed her hips and caught the beat.
“Ay!” I laughed, giving her ass a playful slap.
Someone brushed against me, and I turned, smiling, expecting to see Cash, but my heart dropped when I saw Marcus’s cocky grin.
“Juicy!” he shouted over the music. “Been a minute!”
“Hey, Marcus,” I said weakly. Monica slid beside me instantly, clocking the shift in energy.
“You okay, friend?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
I nodded stiffly as Marcus leaned in, slipping his hand around my waist.
“You been hiding from me?” he murmured in my ear.
My mouth went dry. I needed to get away from him before Cash spotted us.
“Jas, let’s go back upstairs,” Monica urged, tugging my arm.
Marcus tightened his hold on me. “It ain’t even gotta be all that.” He leaned closer, brushing his nose against my cheek.
“I just wanna know why you been duckin’ me, mama.”
I pressed a hand against his chest, trying to push him back, but he wouldn’t budge.
My eyes flicked towards our section. Here we fucking go. Cash and Jelani were practically floating down the stairs, looking ready to fuck some shit up. People instinctively moved out of their way, creating a path as they pushed through.
“Lord, this about to be some shit,” Monica muttered.
“The fuck is this?” Cash growled, his eyes locked on Marcus.
Marcus smiled, eyeing Cash unbothered. “Oh, you ain’t tell me you was here with your little friend, Juicy,” he said, finally letting go of me.
I wasted no time backing up. “Actually, Cash is my man,” I said firmly, stepping beside him.
Marcus’s face twisted in anger. “Your man? You dead ass? ‘Cause the other night—”
“Don’t get popped saying slick shit, my nigga,” Cash cut him off as he stepped in front of me.
“Take the L and leave, bruh,” Jelani warned, moving Monica behind him. “I promise, this ain’t what you want.”
Marcus’s eyes darkened, but he put his hands up and backed away. “Y’all got it,” he laughed, his eyes flicked toward me. “I’ma holla at you, Jasmine.”
Cash started toward him, and I grabbed his shirt before he could go after him.
“Fucking clown,” Jelani muttered as Marcus disappeared into the crowd.
“Always some shit when we out with y’all,” Monica mumbled, pushing away from Jelani when he tried taking her hand.
Cash was visibly heated as we made our way back to VIP.
Slim and Fontaine sat up straighter when they saw him, like they were waiting for the green light.
I sank onto a couch, trying to steady my breathing.
Monica dropped down beside me with a sigh.
Cash stood near the railing, fuming as he looked out over the crowd, like he was trying to track Marcus’s movements on the dance floor.
The bottle girl came over with our drinks. I took mine and threw it back, hoping the tequila would wash away the sick feeling out of my chest.
“What the fuck was that?” Monica whispered.
“My nut ass ex,” I muttered, fishing my phone out of my purse as it buzzed again.
Marcus: [1 video attachment]
I clicked it without thinking, expecting some bullshit.
But I wanted to throw up the second it loaded.
It was us in his hotel suite.
Him on top of me. My legs around him.
I didn’t even know he recorded it.
Another text came through.
Marcus: Should I send this to your nigga?
The phone slipped from my hand and hit my thigh.
“Jasmine.”
I looked up, heart hammering, and saw Cash standing over me. I snatched the phone and shoved it into my purse before he could catch a glimpse of the screen.
“Come talk to me,” he said, moving toward a secluded corner.
I rubbed my hands on my thighs and stood.
“The fuck was that?” he asked once we were out of earshot.
“What was what?” I fumed. “You think I wanted him all up on me like that?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“You didn’t have to.” I looked up at the ceiling, fighting the tears threatening to fall. “We just got past this, Cash. I’m not about to do this back and forth.”
He caught my arm as I turned to walk away.
“Jas—don’t do that.” His voice softened.
“You’re insecure about a nigga that’s a non-factor. If that’s where we’re at, maybe I need to go back to my place.”
“Nah. We’re going home together,” he said.
I wanted to scream. He reached out and pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I let myself melt into him—like being this close might quiet the noise in my head.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said against my temple. “I don’t like that shit. He knows what he’s doing, pushing up on you to get a reaction outta me. It’s not insecurity, it’s about respect.”
I nodded, resting my head against him. I heard him, but his words did nothing to settle the knots twisting in my gut.
Marcus could ruin everything with one tap—and Cash didn’t even know.
He kissed my hair and held me tighter like it was settled.
How could I make this disappear without blowing up in both our faces?