Chapter 8
KEEGAN
“Come on! Take a shot,” Icelynn insisted.
I side-eyed her from my spot on the couch before my eyes traveled around the room at all the pink and purple decorations in disgust. Only love would have me agreeing to these girly ass decorations in my home. “I don’t drink.”
I’d told her ass that seven times now, but she didn’t want to take no for an answer.
That was too bad for her because I wasn’t about to put a drop of liquor in my system.
When I was young, I used to party hard and run the streets, but the moment I met Jerome, I cut all that shit out and never looked back.
“Ice, leave my man alone,” Chyna said. She sat next to me with a drink in her hand and her head on my shoulder. My arm was around her, and my hand couldn’t help but massage her hip.
I couldn’t believe that in under a week, I had a woman, and not just any woman, but someone I wanted to make my wife expeditiously.
Icelynn’s eyes narrowed on Chyna. “I still can’t believe you calling this nigga your man. I just saw you a few days ago, and let you tell it, y’all was just friends.”
“Things happen.” Chyna shrugged her shoulders.
“Yeah, he put some dick up in your life.”
The doorbell rang, lucky for Chyna, who had suddenly gotten hot to the touch. I chuckled before I kissed her cheek and got up to answer the door. I heard the two of them bickering quietly as I left the room.
Icelynn may have tried to bully me to drink, but she was still alright with me. She spoke her mind and didn’t give a fuck what anyone had to say, and all I could do was respect that.
She had gotten here an hour ago, and I had laughed a couple of times at her crazy ass. That said a lot for me. I typically didn’t find shit funny.
When I opened the front door, my cousin Beretta, my cousin Sami, and Sami’s wife, Millie, greeted me.
Beretta had a mug on his face, as always.
That nigga was a lot like me . . . Wasn’t shit funny .
. . ever. It made sense, though, because my parents raised him, and we grew up more like brothers than cousins.
The only difference between us was that Jerome’s goodness had gotten to me. It didn’t get to Beretta.
And yeah, that was his real name. His mama was a straight up hoodrat who didn’t know no better.
Sami and Millie, on the other hand, stood there with smiles on their faces and bottles in their hands, ready to turn up.
“Move,” Beretta said as he pushed past me. I stuck my foot out and tripped his stupid ass. He fumbled but caught himself before he turned and stuck his middle fingers up at me.
“Here y’all go,” Sami said as he slapped my hand and pulled me in for a brotherly hug.
I pulled away from him and gave Millie a side hug as I said, “That nigga always startin’ shit. Hey, Millie.”
“Hey, Keegan,” she said.
I led them into the house, right on Beretta’s heels. I almost ran into the nigga when he stopped abruptly.
“Fuck wrong wit’ you, nigga?” I asked as I thumped Beretta on the back.
“Who dat?” Beretta asked as he pointed at Icelynn, who looked at us with curiosity.
“Aw, hell. That’s Chyna’s cousin, Icelynn. It’s her birthday.”
This wasn’t good. Niggas thought I was bad .
. . Beretta was a certified crashout. Icelynn seemed like the female version of me .
. . a damn bully and a woman who wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted.
On some by any means necessary type shit.
Beretta didn’t do relationships. I didn’t know what Icelynn was on, but those two linking up could either be epic or really, really bad for everyone involved.
“Oh yeah? Well, let me go gift the birthday girl wit’ my presence.” Beretta rubbed his hands together as he eyed her.
“Y’all do know we can hear you, right?” Icelynn asked as she arched a brow up.
I chuckled and put my hands up in mock surrender. “I’m stayin’ out of it.”
I quickly went around and made introductions before the doorbell rang again. Chyna hopped up. “That has to either be the food or my sister and cousin.”
I nodded toward the front door. “Come on.”
I grabbed her waist and kissed her neck. She giggled.
“Aye, who the fuck is this Chyna chick?” I heard Beretta ask as we left the room.
I left Icelynn to explain it to my boys.
I hadn’t filled them in on Chyna yet. They knew they were coming over for a party, but they had no idea whose.
All they knew was I called, so they came.
I made a mental note to get up with them, just the boys, at some point next week and really fill them in.
I watched as Chyna pulled the door open. Something about that gesture from her had me feeling all warm and shit. Baby moved like this was her house, and I loved it.
When she squealed, I tore my eyes away from her and to the people in the door, ready to knock everyone’s heads loose if it was a nigga. Lucky for them, it was two women. One looked a lot like Chyna. I assumed that was her younger sister. The other woman looked like Icelynn.
After she hugged them, Chyna looked up at me. “Baby, this is my little sister, Chiara, and that’s my cousin, Icelynn’s younger sister, Capri. Y’all, this is my man, Keegan.”
“I thought he was your boss,” Chiara said. She looked up at me curiously, looking just like my Chyna Doll.
“She finally upgraded me to her man,” I joked as I gestured for them to enter.
“’Bout time,” Capri said as she walked past.
“Ohh, does Mama know? Wait ’til I tell Daddy,” Chiara exclaimed. She pinched Chyna when she walked by her. My baby took a page out of my book and stuck her leg out to trip Capri. That shit was funny as hell to me because she didn’t even see me do that to Beretta. She was my lil mini me, for real.
Capri stumbled but caught herself and then glared at Chyna, who simply shrugged. “Don’t you dare go tellin’ them anything until I talk to them.”
“Alright, damn. You didn’t have to do all that,” Chiara muttered.
“Keegan, this your house?” Capri asked, completely ignoring her cousins as she looked around while we walked toward the living room.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Damn, Chy. You wit’ a rich nigga,” Capri whispered, but I still heard her.
I wasn’t offended because what she said wasn’t a lie.
Plus, I knew Chyna didn’t care about my money.
I was still trying to figure out a way to get her ass to quit her damn job so she could relax because I just knew she wouldn’t go for that.
Maybe if I get her pregnant . . .
The doorbell rang again, and my irritation flared. “Aight, now. I’m ’bout sick of this.”
Chyna rubbed my back. “It’s okay, bae. That should be the food, and that’s it, right? You don’t have anyone else coming?”
I looked around the room at everyone mingling. “Nah.”
“Me neither.” She turned toward the living room and called out, “Y’all go ahead and introduce yourselves. We’re just going to get the food.”
We walked toward the door, and once we got the boxes of pizza, wings, and breadsticks from the delivery guy, I closed the door, a little too hard, ready to get on with the night.
Chyna walked in front of me, and I admired her fat ass in those little spandex shorts she wore. We dropped everything in the kitchen, but before she could go back toward the living room, I caught her by the waist and hugged her to me.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice muffled because I hugged her tightly to my chest.
I loosened my grip on her some and massaged her ass. “Yeah. Let me get some.”
She giggled. I knew it had been a full-time job to keep me off her today, but I couldn’t help it. I craved her cute ass.
“Just make it through a few more hours, baby. I promise I got you later.”
I frowned. “How long we talkin’?”
She shrugged. “If we get them super drunk, they probably won’t stay as long.” She grabbed a bottle of liquor off the counter and held it up.
I smacked her ass. “Say less.”
With haste, I turned toward the living room with her giggling behind me.
“Let’s play UNO. I’ll be on the birthday girl’s team,” Beretta suggested as we entered the living room. He licked his lips and looked straight into Icelynn’s eyes.
Icelynn laughed in his face, which caused Beretta to push his shoulder-length locs out of his face. I knew his ass thought he had to have heard wrong. No way a woman laughed at him. That was something that just didn’t happen. I had a feeling that my cousin had met his match, though.
“Ain’t no teams in UNO, nigga,” Icelynn said.
Beretta mugged her. “You a hater, ain’t you?” He looked over at me. “Aye, Cuz, you got me over here celebrating a hater’s birthday?”
“I ain’t no mothafuckin’ hater, nigga. Watch ya mouth,” Icelynn snapped.
Beretta looked her up and down. “Shit . . . I’m tryna watch my mouth all over that pussy—”
Chyna clapped her hands. “How about we eat before we play games?”
She ushered everyone into the kitchen, and I laughed as I grabbed her from behind and kissed the back of her neck as we walked. Tonight was about to be entertaining as hell. I couldn’t wait, because all I had to do was sit back with some popcorn and Chyna in my lap, while I watched the shit unfold.
“Aye, who wants to take a shot?” I shouted.
Icelynn cheered, and I knew it wouldn’t be hard to get her ass drunk. I just had to get the rest of these mothafuckas on board.
Okay, maybe planning our first official date the day after Chyna’s cousin’s birthday party wasn’t my brightest idea.
I had planned this little outing a few days ago when it was confirmed that the boys would be with their deadbeats . . . I mean, other parents.
“You sure you don’t want to go home and rest?” I asked.
Chyna hit the ball with her golf club and then eyed me. “You’re just saying that because you’re losing.”
I scoffed.
She was right.