18. Nylah
Nylah
Iwas catching feelings for a Brooklyn nigga.
And I didn’t know how to feel about that.
Even though I wanted to take my time, even though my trust in Rosama was low, that nigga was applying pressure, and I wasn’t talking no lil’ pressure either.
Rosama asked where I worked and showed up with lunch when he was in the area. When I had a late class, he would pick me up. Rosama would randomly send me money for bills or to make sure it was groceries in the house that he liked.
On my days off, if he wasn’t catching plays or moving guns, we would have movie dates or go on walks. I saw another side of Rosama that I could tell he didn’t let many, if anybody, see.
He was so caring, so attentive, but at the same time controlling.
He stood his ground and made sure he was the leader in every situation.
I was finding myself becoming submissive.
Letting him lead, I don’t know if it was the dick or the way he was taking care of me off the rip, but he was putting me in my soft girl era, and I was loving it.
One night my girls were hitting me, trying to go to the club, but I turned them down. I was already at Rosama’s, and he was cooking dinner. After Raven got done cussing me out for not coming, I placed my phone on the table and went into the kitchen to see what he was doing.
“You know how to cook? I asked, looking ova his shoulder.
He laughed. “Chill out, I got this.”
Rosama was pan-frying some chicken. He had some veggies steaming and some rolls in the oven.
“Okay,” I said as I looked around. “Let me find out you know what you doing in here.”
He put the tongs down, wrapped his arms around me, and placed me on the counter beside him with a kiss.
“You think I can’t feed myself?”
I looked him up and down playfully. “To be honest with you, no. I thought the only thing you probably know how to cook is crack and cereal.”
Rosama looked at me, shocked, and flicked flour at me. I flicked some back at him, then we ended up chasing each other around the kitchen, flicking flour back and forth, acting a fool until we both slipped on the floor and were outta breath, laughing.
“You know, since we been locking in, you been bringing me some peace.”
I smiled. “I think I can say the same about you. I like what we are building.”
He nodded. “Me too, and I'm about to be thirty-three. It’s about time I lock it down with the right one.”
I turned toward him. “You think I'm the right one?”
Rosama chuckled low. “I knew since the moment you hopped outta your car after I hit you that you were the one for me.”
I blushed. “You’re not gonna fuck this up?”
“I could neva,” he said quickly. “I want you and us too bad.”
We got up off the floor, and I helped Rosama finish dinner. Afterward, we sat close together at the table and ate.
“Let me find out my nigga can whip it up in the kitchen.”
Rosama laughed. “Tried to tell you. It’s more to ya man than good dick and money.”
We laughed together and continued eating and talking as his phone kept ringing like crazy.
“Is it don’t answer again?” I asked him.
He shook his head, looking at the screen.
“Nah, but Dre can handle the shit. I'm busy. Let’s go out tonight.”
“Where to?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But we will find somethin'.”
We cleaned up and got dressed then walked out of his crib. We were trying to figure out a move when Dre called and asked him to slide through.
We pulled up ova there in no time, Dre, Brandon, and Blaze sitting on the steps.
“Wussup?” Rosama asked Dre.
“Come inside, I need to holla at you real quick.”
We walked up the steps past Brandon and Blaze while he looked me up and down like we had a problem. Inside, I sat on the couch. Rosama sat beside me, and Dre sat across from us.
“Your…problem came through here,” he said to Rosama as he lit a blunt.
I looked at Rosama, and his eyes got a lil’ big.
“Don’t answer?” he asked.
Dre nodded. “Yeah, they are not wrapped too tight.”
Dre lit the blunt and passed it to Rosama.
“What did you tell them?”
“I told them to handle what they are supposed to handle and to leave you alone.”
Rosama exhaled with a nod while passing the blunt to me.
“I told you to handle that shit. Them pullin’ up here could—”
“’Cause more issues than needed, I know,” Rosama said, cutting Dre off.
I passed the blunt back to Dre, and he stared at me and Rosama.
“Y’all been boo’d up, ain’t it?”
I tried to hide my smile, feeling like it wasn’t the time, but it was hard.
“We been in the crib, she’s been working and needed to relax.”
Dre chuckled under his breath with an attitude. “Relaxing instead of handling what you need to.”
Rosama stood up. “I’ma handle that shit. They won’t be comin’ around anymore.”
Dre nodded. “I hope not. That shit is bad for business.”
Rosama didn’t say anything else. He just grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the house. Before we could step foot on the steps, Blaze's eyes were already on us.
Rosama clocked that shit and wasted no time checking it.
“Nigga, you gonna have an issue with her every time you see her?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you talkin’ bout, nigga,” he responded.
“Yes the fuck you do. Every time she comes around you lookin’ her down like you finna do somethin’, so I'm askin’ you wussup.”
Blaze stood up, stepping in Rosama’s face while he was still holding tight to my hand.
“All I'm sayin’ is before you locked her down, you should have let me test the pussy. You used to pass bitches around. What’s different about this bitch?”
Seconds didn’t even pass—I couldn’t even say shit before Rosama smacked Blaze across the face, sending him flying back off the side of the steps.
“Oh, shit!” his brotha Brandon yelled out, trying not to laugh.
“Damnit! Blaze, I told you to quit that shit!” Dre yelled out.
Rosama walked me down the steps, and he stopped and looked at Blaze, trying to pick himself up.
“I know you just got home. So I’ma give ya lil’ horny ass a pass. But if you speak on my girl—look at her wrong or anything—I’ma kill you. And I put that on every fuckin’ thing I love.”
Blaze didn’t say anything else, shit. Nobody did as he opened the car door and helped me in. Once he got in the car, Blaze walked up the steps and took a seat, wiping his mouth.
“That nigga lost his fuckin’ mind, but I got otha shit to worry about.”
“Like don’t answer?” I asked.
He looked at me once he reached the stop sign at the end of the block.
“I don’t want you to be thinkin’ any other shit,” he muttered. “It’s not like that. It’s business.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, making sure he was bein real with me.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, princess. I swear to you.”