Prologue #5
“Bruh, let’s not act like this is breaking news. You married Janira, put three kids in her, and retired your hoe jersey without so much as a farewell tour. Clearly, she was fine enough to make yo’ ass close the roster, delete the scouting report, and start coming home at a reasonable hour.”
“That still ain’t what I asked,” he pressed.
“And it damn sure ain’t what I answered.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Look at you, fishing for compliments about yo’ own wife. That’s nasty work.” I chuckled.
“I ain’t fishing for shit.”
“Then quit throwing bait in the water.”
Knox glared at me, but I kept going.
“But nigga, you know damn well I don’t look at Janira like that. I respect both of y’all too much. But facts are facts. She’s beautiful.” I paused and looked him over. “Look at it this way, if she looked like yo’ ass, y’all wouldn’t have made it through appetizers on the first date.”
Knox shoved my shoulder. “Man, fuck you.”
I laughed. “Now you mad because yo’ wife the pretty one in the marriage. Janira carrying the family portraits on her back.”
“Nigga, yo’ drunk ass about to carry yourself home on foot.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Try complimenting my wife one more time and find out.”
I lifted my hands. “Damn. See, now you’re emotional. First, you wanted validation, now you’re threatening the messenger. Pick a struggle, nigga.”
We laughed in unison, and just like that, we were back to talking shit the way we always did.
That’s how our friendship worked. We could insult each other for ten straight minutes and never take a single word personally.
Besides, Knox knew better. Janira had been around long enough that she was family at this point.
I looked at her the same way I’d look at a sister—somebody to respect, protect, and occasionally annoy for my own entertainment.
Whether I admitted she was fine or not was irrelevant.
There wasn’t a universe where I’d ever look at her as anything other than Knox’s wife, which was exactly why I could joke about it.
“Back to yo’ ass,” I said. “You over here assigning character flaws based on a dress and a face. What I consider a problem is a woman calling me at three in the morning asking for money she already know I’m not about to give her.
That woman,” I pointed at ol’ girl, “ain’t said a word to me yet.
Who knows… she might be just what a nigga needs. But for now, I’m just observing.”
“Yeah, that’s how every bad decision begins with you,” Knox muttered.
I ignored him.
Some bad decisions be the best mistakes of a person’s life. Hell, half my success came from things I should’ve left alone.
“Just finish yo’ drink so we can go, nigga,” he added. “Besides, it looks like shawty got some shit of her own going on. Whatever it is, yo’ ass don’t need it.”
My smirk returned as I continued watching her. “Need it? Nah. But I want it.”
Her to be exact.
It didn’t matter if ol’ girl was playing hard to get, pretending not to notice me, or halfway across the room acting like her phone was more important than the way my eyes were undressing her.
If I wanted her, she was already mine… whether that was for the night or forever. The rest was just timing.
For fifteen minutes, I watched her drink as though peace was at the bottom of that glass. Shawty threw back shots like she didn’t give a damn who was watching… but I was.
Finally, she glanced my way and caught me staring. She didn’t blush, look away, or do any of that shy shit. She simply stared right back with a smug little smirk that said she knew exactly where my mind was and found it amusing.
I didn’t smile or raise a glass; I just leaned back and gave the smallest nod toward the hallway that led to the bathroom. My intentions weren’t loud, but they were clear.
To my surprise, and much to my satisfaction, she hesitated only a second before taking one last sip and setting her glass down.
She then stood up, smoothly and unhurried.
I tried not to look too pleased with myself as I watched her walk toward that direction.
She never looked back… hell, there was no need.
I was already on my feet, prepared to follow her as if I’d been summoned.
“Aye, I’ll be back,” I announced to Knox.
“And just where the hell you going, nigga?” he questioned with raised brows.
“To go see if ol’ girl is as bad of an idea as she looks.”
“And if she is?”
I chuckled darkly. “Then tonight will still be a success.”
Knox cocked his head in disbelief. “Merge, you drunk, nigga, but not that drunk. Right?”
I knocked back the last of my drink. “Guess we ’bout to find out.”
“Bruh... you don’t even know her.”
“And she doesn’t know me,” I shot back. “Well, maybe. But if she doesn’t, then look at us… we already got something in common. What I do know is that she’s fine as hell, clearly pissed at somebody, and looks like she’s drinking tequila. That’s three things we already got to talk about.”
Hell, the way she was typing, I was liable to learn the name of whoever she’s mad at before she tells you hers.
“But look, I ain’t trying to apply for a mortgage with her, nigga. I’m just trying to find out if she’s interested in making a few bad decisions tonight. If I don’t go holla at her, I’ma spend the rest of the night wondering what would’ve happened, and you know I hate unanswered questions.”
Knox sighed and tossed his hands up in defeat, like he knew that was a losing battle.
“Aight. Just know, if this shit blows up in yo’ face—however that may happen—I want full credit for being against it from the beginning.”
I shrugged. “Blame my guardian angel for being horny, drunk, and a lil’ intrigued.”
Knox shook his head. “Man, one day that muthafucka gon’ quit, then walk into heaven and stand before God like, ‘I tried everything, Lord. I did my best. That nigga just wouldn’t listen.’”
I smirked. “My other right-hand man never quits; he just drinks on the job now. Besides, if he survived my twenties, he’ll survive tonight with ease.” I winked then swaggered off before Knox could talk sense into me.
On cue, two of my men followed, clearing the hallway near the restrooms. Music still pounded through the walls, but everything felt quiet. By the time I caught up to ol’ girl, she was posted outside the bathroom.
We both knew what time it was.
Up close, her floral, light, perfume hit first. It was the type of scent bougie females wore when they wanted to smell rich on a budget, but on her, it was damn near intoxicating. She didn’t smell expensive; she smelled real, and that was worse.
She stared at me for a moment. Then, with the slowest turn of her lips, she smirked, and I was able to get a really good look at her face.
Her wide and alert eyes were rimmed with thick lashes.
There was curiosity there, sure, but right behind it was that look women get when they’re deciding between tasting trouble or dodging it before it could leave a scar.
Her thick and glassy lip gloss was poppin’ under the club’s red lights, and her bottom lip was plump enough to bite.
Her golden-brown skin looked so damn soft I wanted to touch it just to confirm it was real.
Her cheeks were dusted with just enough highlight to catch a nigga’s attention, but not enough to distract from how fine she was naturally.
“You always stare at strangers that long?” she finally asked, one brow raised, bringing me back to the moment.
“O-Only the ones worth staring at,” I responded, slurring a little, but trying to sound smooth.
She hit me with a sideways look and stepped just a little closer.
“And what happens after the staring?” she teased, like she already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it.
Damn, she’s bold.
And if I’m keeping it a buck, that shit turning me on.
I smirked and tucked my bottom lip between my teeth. Usually depends on how brave the other person is,” I replied.
Her eyes flicked down to my mouth before slowly lifting back to mine. When she smiled, I knew I was fucked. And not in an oh, shit, I made a mistake kind of way, but in an I need to be inside her before I lose my fucking mind kind of way.
“Good,” she murmured, closing the last bit of space between us.
Her breasts brushed against my chest as she leaned toward my ear, her lips grazing the edge of it when she spoke.
“Because I’m drunk and curious enough to sin with you and ask God to forgive us in the same breath.”
A low chuckle left me as my hand settled against her waist. “And I’m reckless enough to help you earn something worth repenting for, then deal with the consequences when I sober up.”
I pulled her closer.
“But watch that curiosity, shawty. They say it killed the cat. Fucking with me might not kill the pussy, but it’ll damn sure ruin it for every nigga who comes after me.
I’ll have that muthafucka purring and yo’ feelings fighting for their life.
By sunrise, yo’ body gon’ be calling me a blessing while your conscience calls me a mistake. ”
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes heavy and inviting.
“What’s yo’ name?” I asked, though focusing on anything besides her mouth and the body pressed against mine was becoming damn near impossible.
Instead of answering, she dragged one finger slowly down the center of my chest, letting her nail catch against my shirt.
“Do you really care?”
“Nah,” I lied without hesitation.
Truth was, I kinda did.
There was something about her that made me want more than the few minutes she was clearly offering, but I wasn’t about to admit that shit to myself, let alone her.
“Didn’t think so. But how about we take this conversation somewhere more private where you can stop pretending you only wanna talk?”
Before giving me the opportunity to respond, she turned and headed straight into the lion’s den—better known as the women’s bathroom—making sure to put just enough extra sway in her hips to convince me to follow.
I didn’t need any further persuasion. The second she walked off, so did I.
It could’ve been the liquor…