Chapter 18 Khloe
Khloe
I was so full that my stomach was hurting a little, but I didn’t regret a single bite.
We were sitting at his kitchen island, laughing about something stupid. I don’t even remember what it was, but my cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. He had poured us another round of tequila shots, and I was already feeling the first two.
Okay… three.
“This your third one?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
I shrugged dramatically. “I know you only agreed to one since you have to drive, but don’t judge me.”
He laughed. “I’m not judging. I’m calculating.”
“Well calculate this,” I said, pointing at him. “I’m a lightweight, and I already feel good.”
“You felt good before the shots,” he teased.
I couldn’t even deny it. It wasn’t just the alcohol. It was also him and his energy.
He lifted his glass. “This my first and only until we get back. Safety first.”
We clinked glasses.
“To what?” he asked.
I hesitated. “To… not thinking,” I said.
“To not thinking.”
The tequila burned going down. I coughed and shook my head, fanning my mouth.
I slid off the stool and had to balance myself against the counter. “Okay wait. Now I’m actually nervous.”
He stood up, stepping into my space. “Nervous about what?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, laughing. “This. Being out. Being… here.”
He reached up and gently slid my Chanel shades off the top of my head.
“It’ll be dark in there,” he said reassuring me. “But if you want even more privacy, wear these and cover your eyes.”
I blinked at him. “If it’s already dark and I wear these, I won’t be able to see anything.”
He leaned closer. “From the music, drinks, and vibes… you won’t be able to see anyway. Your eyes gonna be closed.”
He kissed me then.
“Let go,” he spoke against my lips. “I am your eyes tonight. Your ears. Your brain. Your legs. Your arms. You’re not responsible for a thing.”
I smiled against his mouth and kissed him back. I hated how he made me feel like a little girl again because I remembered when Kairo used to make me feel like that.
“Let’s go,” he said suddenly.
Before I could ask how or where or wait, he bent down, scooped me up, and lifted me into his arms.
“Stacks!” I shrieked, laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
“You said you’re nervous,” he grinned. “I told you. You’re not walking nowhere tonight.”
My arms wrapped around his neck just laughing as he walked to his car.
The ride wasn’t long, but it felt like it since his hand rested on my thigh.
When he turned down a narrow side street and pulled up in front of a small tin building with a faded neon beer sign flickering in the window, I frowned.
“This it?” I asked, trying not to sound… not scared or cautious.
He grinned. “Don’t do that. Trust me.”
There were cars backed into every spot in the gravel lot. A few men stood outside in a loose circle, laughing, and smoking. It looked hood and dangerous.
He got out first and walked around to open my door. He held his hand out, and when I stepped down, he laced his fingers through mine.
That small gesture meant a lot. Like, okay. I’m not alone. I don’t have to figure out the room. I don’t have to perform. He’ll carry it.
One of the older men from the smoking circle looked up.
“Stacks!”
They dapped each other up and Stacks pulled me gently forward.
“This my girl, LoLo,” he said casually, like the nickname wasn’t crazy. “I heard the family doing it up today so I had to come show her a good time.”
The older man grinned at me. “Well welcome to the Sugar Shack, LoLo.”
Sugar Shack. The name made me laugh because it sounded like somewhere your grandma used to sneak into in the seventies.
Stacks kept my hand in his as we walked inside.
The door creaked open and the sound hit me first. Old school R&B pouring out of speakers that had probably been mounted there since 1998. The bass thumped.
The space was small, maybe thirty people max if everybody squeezed in. A bar lined the left wall with mismatched stools. A pool table sat dead center like it was the crown jewel of the room. Christmas lights were strung along the ceiling beams even though it wasn’t Christmas.
“STACKS!” someone yelled from the bar.
He squeezed my hand.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“I am relaxed,” I lied.
Before he could respond, another older man stumbled over.
“Boy! You finally brought somebody else in here!” he slurred, wrapping Stacks in a sideways hug.
Stacks laughed. “Unc, chill.”
The man turned to me. “You’re so pretty. Don’t let him embarrass you.”
I burst out laughing. “He embarrasses you often?” I asked.
“Every chance he can get.”
The music switched to Frankie Beverly & Maze, and suddenly the entire place started singing like they were in somebody’s living room.
A woman behind the bar slid me a cup without even asking my age. “If you’re with him, I know you’re good.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Something that’ll make you feel good.” She winked.
Stacks leaned down. “Sip slow. Trust me.”
I took a cautious sip.
“Oh,” I said, eyes widening.
He laughed. “Told you.”
Within minutes, people were pulling chairs closer together. They were singing and dancing. A cousin attempted to dance in the middle of the floor and had absolutely zero rhythm.
“Lord,” Stacks laughed, shaking his head. “That boy can’t catch a beat if you hand it to him.”
I laughed so hard I almost spilled my drink.
One of the aunties grabbed my hand. “Come on, LoLo. You dance?”
Before I could answer, Stacks stepped behind me with his hands on my hips.
“Yeah, she can dance,” he said confidently.
The song changed to one with a bounce, and suddenly I wasn’t nervous anymore. I was moving, laughing, and allowing myself to just have fun without worrying about how I looked.
Stacks leaned down and sang off-key into my ear on purpose just to make me laugh.
“You’re so silly” I giggled.
“LoLo,” he yelled over the music, “I told you. You ain’t responsible for nothing tonight.”
The drunk uncle tried to start a toast and forgot what he was toasting to halfway through. Everybody booed him playfully. Someone racked the pool balls. A cousin argued about who cheated last week. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t curated or luxury. But it felt… alive and like real fun family time.
Stacks wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side while the room sang another chorus together.
The opening sounds of “Busted” by The Isley Brothers blasted through the speakers and the entire building went crazy. It was like someone had pulled a fire alarm, but instead of running out, everybody ran in.
The men that had been outside smoking came pouring through the door, beers still in hand. Someone yelled, “TURN THAT UP!” like the speakers weren’t already fighting for their lives.
Stacks looked down at me with a grin. “Oh yeah… it’s over with now. This our shit.”
Every single person in that room knew every word.
The men lined up on one side like they were about to perform on stage. Cups and beer bottles instantly turned into microphones.
The women gathered opposite them, hands on hips, ready for war.
And when he started singing, the men lost their minds.
“BUSTED. It’s 2 o’ damn clock in the morning, where you been?”
They were pointing at random women in the room. Voices cracking, off-key, and passionate.
The women waited and pointed right back.
“Baby didn’t you get my 2-way? I was with my girlfriend.”
Fingers in faces. Heads rolling. Full dramatics like they wrote the damn song themselves. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. It was beautiful, entertaining, and ghetto in the most joyful way.
Even the aunties were in it, wigs slightly shifted, drinks sloshing. The drunk uncle from earlier had claimed the center of the floor and was dramatically acting out the cheating scene, falling to his knees and then started humping the air.
The entire room screamed.
“UNCLE RAYMOND!” someone yelled.
Stacks shook his head, laughing. “That man ain’t never been right.”
He turned me around to face him. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. His hands slid to my hips, pulling me closer. His chest moved against me as he sang the man’s part into my ear.
“Noooo. You guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Ohhhh now wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute”
He dipped his head and kissed my forehead between lyrics. The way his hands held my hips felt secure. The crowd around us was still screaming the lyrics at each other, but somehow it felt like we were in our own bubble.
He sang the last few lines directly to me, eyes locked on mine.
And I don’t know if it was the music, the drinks, the laughter, or the way the entire room had embraced me like I wasn’t some outsider from a different world…
But in that moment, I felt light and like I’d stepped into a version of life I didn’t know I was allowed to have.
Stacks leaned down, forehead resting against mine while the song faded out and the room erupted into cheers and whistles.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded, breathless and tipsy as hell.
“I’m good.”
Another song started and the family kept dancing like they didn’t have a single care in the world. I wasn’t thinking about what would happen the next day. I wasn’t thinking about consequences. I wasn’t thinking about how everything would look. I was just… happy.