Chapter 7 #2
I didn’t deserve her. While I never felt like I did, my actions proved it. That didn’t stop me from still wanting her and still needing her because I knew that I could be whoever she needed me to be. For her. Because I was hers. Forever and always.
But she doesn’t trust me. Not Keanu, at least. Ken, the family friend she trusted but Keanu…
no. Before anything else, I wanted to work on gaining that trust. Lyric would love me forever.
I’d give her no other choice, but I wouldn’t force us into anything she wasn’t ready for.
In due time, we’d be one. I knew it. She knew it. It was inevitable.
Just like any other nigga, I was ready to earn my spot in her life. Because once I was in her world, there would be no exiting. Then, I wouldn’t have to fantasize about all the places in my home where I would love her body down. I’d be able to do that shit.
After tonight, I thought as my dick hardened. After tonight, I’d take my time with Lyric. As slow as she wanted this thing to go, I’d take it. But, first, I needed my dick wet and she was the only one I wanted at the tip of it.
Plus, I missed her. As spoiled and bratty as she was, her energy was pure. I wanted that in my world. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that it would take a little coaxing to get rid of the attitude I was certain she had with me, but I’d work through it.
“What the fuck I’m supposed to pick?” I grunted, lowly, circling the large section of flowers over and over.
The long display of botanicals that I’d been passing for years finally had my interest piqued.
Though there were many different species and colors, nothing had popped out, yet.
Nothing I’d looked at immediately screamed Lyric’s name, either.
She was a simple girl and one that lived a life almost completely absent of color.
Over the years, I’d noticed that she preferred browns, tans, black, and occasional grays.
I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen her in a color that wasn’t muted.
It worked for her though. Contrary to what one might have believed, she wasn’t as bland as the colors she wore – neither was her life.
Lyric was complex. Hell, after knowing her forever, I was still trying to figure her out.
Bingo. The cream-colored, large bulbs sticking out from a bucket that was near the center of the display caught my attention. Instead of grabbing one bouquet, I grabbed the four that were in the bucket and made my way to the counter.
Order flowers. The thought occurred to me as I neared the register.
Though Lyric was appreciative, she was accustomed to the finest of everything, and grocery store flowers weren’t exactly her speed.
They’d serve as an apology for ghosting her the other morning, but I wouldn’t make it a habit of grabbing $24.
99 flowers on the whim. Eventually, she’d call me out on the shit. That’s just how Lyric was.
It wasn’t long before I was bobbing my head to the Hov track and hitting the corners in The Hills.
The scenery was unmatched and to know that there were black and brown faces that resembled mine living in every home that I passed was enough to put a smile on my face.
Poverty was handed to them all but it wasn’t enough.
Just like me, they’d strived for more and attained it.
I quieted my engine as I turned on the suburban street that reminded me of my own but with smaller homes and yards.
Every one of the Eisenberg offsprings lived in The Hills; Laike, and Luca living a bit further up than Lyric.
She was right in the middle of her parents, who lived in Edgewood, and her brothers who didn’t live very far from me.
A six-minute drive either direction and I could reach both of their homes.
Lyric’s home sat comfortably behind greenery, a gate that had recently been installed, a perfectly manicured lawn, a lengthy driveway that slightly spiraled, and underneath constant surveillance. She was tucked in safely by her family. They made sure their little gem was well-protected.
The black Hellcat that sat in her driveway wasn’t surprising at all. Since Luca’s incarceration, Laike and Lyric had developed an even tighter bond. Now that Ever was in the picture and Luca was preoccupied most of the time with his growing family, the bond was even tighter.
Though it took a bit of convincing on my end, I decided not to interfere or blow Lyric’s cover.
I didn’t give a damn about revealing to Laike or Luca that I was interested in Lyric.
However, her wishes to reserve that bit of information put me in a tight spot.
So, until we came to an agreement, I’d keep her secret.
I continued down the street, watching in my rearview mirror until I hit the next.
The gas station was four and a half miles away, giving me plenty of time to kill.
Completely out of backwoods, I wanted to grab more and fill my tank for what felt like the eighth time in the last three days.
It was official. My truck was a gas guzzler.
Unlike any of the stations across Dooley, the GasCo that I pulled up to was free of clutter, stragglers, and loitering.
But as clean and as quiet as the lot was, I didn’t trust it.
Leaving my truck running like I had the freedom to in Dooley was off limits, so I silenced the engine and locked the truck after I’d exited.
“Welcome to GasCo. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with. I’m Lisa,” the attendant greeted with a smile.
“Lisa, let me get that box of backwoods behind you, mommas. Toss a lighter on there too. The good kind. Then, let me get eighty on the truck out there.”
I didn’t feel like checking the pump, but I was certain she could see it.
“The entire box?” she questioned with raised eyebrows.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” I nodded.
“Okay. The entire box it is.”
I placed two hundred dollar bills on the counter, grabbed the lighter, backwoods, and a pack of candy from the countertop and headed out of the door.
“Your change?” Lisa yelled after me.
“Keep it,” I tossed over my shoulder.
Without haste, I began filling my truck up again and loaded it with everything I’d gotten from the store. While the numbers on the display continued to rise, I slammed the door behind me and opened the box of cigars.
Click.
Before I was able to get the knotty buds into the grinder to break them down better, the pump sounded.
I never broke stride, tossing a final knot of the greenish, purple bud into the gold grinder.
From one side to the other, I twisted it until there weren’t any more lumps.
The aroma continued to flood my vehicle as I reopened the grinder and emptied its contents into the flattened backwood on the armrest.