Chapter 7 #3
A brown skinned girl in thin framed glasses hopped out of the passenger seat, looking overwhelmed while carrying two trays full of dessert cookies. In the tangerine maxi dress, she was modest, with her hair pulled back in loose wave curls accompanied by a matching orange floral print headband.
“Uncle Mozzi!” The little diva broke away from her father the minute Mozzi hopped out of Coast’s jeep and ran to him.
“What’s up, Kbug!” He scooped her up and rained kisses on her little chubby cheeks.
“You’re welcome for the ride!” Coast yelled at his inconsiderate ass.
He faced her with his niece in his muscular arms.
“Who dat? She pretty,” the handsome, brown skinned boy queried. “What’s your name?”
“Coast,” she replied.
“I’m Kyro. This my little sister, Kara,” he introduced them.
“It’s nice to meet you! Your uncle is rude, though!”
“Nanna Desiree say he just a little touched.” Kara ran her hand over Mozzi’s waves, and Coast fell into a fit of laughter.
“She told no lies!” Coast pulled off, and Mozzi watched after her for a minute until Kong came up to him with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
He had plans to get with her sometime today since she would be around.
Although he usually handled everyone with a long-handled spoon, something about her made him want to keep her close.
He was used to ionic bonds. Mostly surface level shit with females with strong sexual attraction.
With Coast, it was more than that from the moment his eyes looked into hers.
He saw the future, and that had never happened before.
Things with her were covalent. Where every woman in his life usually rushed to please him, Coast immediately challenged him.
He didn’t even care that she was pregnant.
“Leave that alone,” his brother advised.
“What you talking about?” Mozzi set Kara on the ground.
“Nigga, I see that look. Stick to what you know.” Kong slapped a hand against his chest as Ayla and the kids appeared at his side.
For the past week, she’d become practically a part of the family.
The kids were still adjusting and damn sure had their moments since she’d been present, but Ayla was doing her best not to lose her patience.
There were times she had to take a breath and decompress though.
She already used some of the bonus he gave her to pay for culinary school stuff, so there was no turning back.
When she told Inari she was done coming to her and asking for things like a child, she meant it.
“The fuck that supposed to mean?” Mozzi’s face balled up, and he glanced toward Ayla.
He was getting used to her being around, and she could whip her ass off in the kitchen, so he’d shown up a few times for her meals.
She was real chill and lowkey, much like his brother, but after watching a couple of her YouTube videos, he knew she had another side to her.
She wasn’t his speed, and although she was kind of outside Kong’s usual age range, Mozzi could see how they fit together.
She was the same age as him, but it was obvious she had the type of upbringing that made her grow up fast.
“It means she don’t look like your type.”
“The fuck is a type, Kong? I ain’t got no type,” Mozzi objected.
“You do. High maintenance, obsessive bitches whose only goal is to please you.” His brother listed as he slammed the door shut to his whip and steered them toward the basketball court.
Ayla struggled with the pans in her hands, so Kong slid his duffel to Mozzi and helped her with them without even speaking.
“Thank you,” she uttered, shyly bowing her head with a timid smile.
“Whatever.” Mozzi brushed him off as they crossed the grass to the crowded court. “Nigga sitting here talking to me about types and looking like a whole family with his ‘employee’,” Mozzi grumbled, shaking his head.
Kong kept walking but flipped him the bird as Mozzi scoped out who was already present.
The baddies were everywhere, scantily dressed like they were at a pool party instead of a community event with children present.
He wasn’t mad at the display of titties and ass everywhere, though.
He’d seen enough not to be mesmerized by these hoes, which was why Kong’s comment about Coast not being his type rubbed him wrong.
“Well, looks like you stuck to the timeline.” Bee greeted Coast when she arrived, carrying the flowers Laci had provided.
“Yeah. Kind of got caught up talking to Inari.”
“Oh yeah? About what?” Bee prodded curiously.
“This and that. She suggested I go over to the college and look through their course catalogue. Maybe find something to do with myself.”
“Imagine that,” Bee teased. “I guess it takes a stranger to light a fire under you.” She took the vases of flowers and lined them up on the table beside different baskets.
Coast noticed they were all filled with different items, men’s cologne, tickets to football games, concerts, and other snacks and random things.
“What is all this for?”
“It’s an auction. Just something fun,” Bee replied. “We do it every year. The women bid on each basket strictly based off the items inside that the men placed to describe themselves. Whoever wins gets a date with whoever the basket belongs to. Eight eligible bachelors sign up for it.”
“Sounds… very slave auction,” Coast mumbled, eyeing the baskets to see how different they were.
“You can stay here and man the table. Just take the money, put it in this bag,” Bee handed her a small blue bank bag with a zipper, “and write down the name of whoever bids on which basket.”
“Do I get a lunch break, boss?”
“I’m doing this for the baby. Not you. If you want to go grab something before, you go right ahead. Make sure to come back in ten minutes.”
Coast was starving. She wolfed down that gas station hot dog and slushie like it was nothing. The barbecue aroma toyed with her senses, and she found herself wandering over to the BBQ Junction booth where two older men with a striking family resemblance roasted each other.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” One of the old men questioned with a gold toothed grin.
“Hook her up, Stacks. She eating for two.” Mozzi eased up beside her.
Coast hated that she was growing used to his voice. Eyes rolling heavily with annoyance, she turned and looked him over, standing beside her.
“Don’t tell me it’s yours.” Kool grinned.
“Shit, might be.” Mozzi grinned in Coast’s direction.
“First of all, stay the hell out of my business.”
“What you hiding it for?”
“What part of my business do you not understand? Intrusive ass.” Coast glared at him.
“Drop that stank ass attitude. Slap some ribs, potato salad, baked beans, and that corn on the cob on her plate,” Mozzi told Stacks.
It all sounded good to Coast, so she didn’t argue.
“I’m Mozzi.”
“Did I ask you any of that?” Coast shot back, making both old men chuckle.
“Sounds like you met somebody that ain’t a member of your fan club.” Stacks made her plate and handed it to her. “There you go. You don’t even need a ticket, baby, since you giving him such a hard time.”
“Fuck you, old man.” Mozzi cut his eyes at Stacks.
He’d known him since he came to his knee and used to run past his first location, a little hole in the wall near the projects that Mozzi grew up in.
Stacks and his brother, Kool, had seen Mozzi raising hell since he was missing teeth.
So, when they came across one another, it was nothing for them to throw insults in the most loving way.
“Thank you.” Coast grabbed the plate and smiled.
“Oh, you can grin for this muhfucka, though.” Mozzi sucked his teeth. “I see how it is. Food is the way to your heart these days. Guess that’s the only way I’ll get to see that pretty ass smile.”
“Aren’t you playing in the tournament?” Coast picked up a rib and took a bite.
“You should come watch me. Be my cheerleader.” He licked his lips and flirted.
Coast tried to avoid the little flutter in her stomach when his eyes locked on her. Glancing past him, she spied the girl he was with at Comfort Kitchen hovering in the background, trying her best to be a fly on the wall in their conversation.
“Looks like you already got one.” Coast nodded in Roni’s direction.
Mozzi glimpsed her over his shoulder. Arms tucked across her breasts, she grilled them both from across the way.
“If we gon’ be in this relationship, you can’t be worried about the next bitch.”
Coast almost choked on her second bite. He was dead ass, which made it even funnier.
“You’re delusional as hell. You know that?” She grabbed her fork and scooped potato salad onto it.
“You like me, though,” Mozzi stated with confidence.
“Like a stray dog,” Coast replied, making him fall over holding his stomach in laughter.
“You think you funny? Like I can’t smell all those pheromones you releasing.” Mozzi admired her thighs, all meaty and moisturized.
“Oh, my God! Who says shit like that?” she asked, eyes growing three sizes when she swallowed her food.
“You didn’t think a nigga was smart like that, did you?”
“Spell it,” she challenged with a cute grin.
“Mozzi, what the hell is this?” Roni had enough of being ignored and him playing in her face. “I thought you said you didn’t know her.”
“Baby brother.” Moose came over to help wrangle him in before he ended up in some shit he couldn’t talk his way out of, not that he would try.
He typically didn’t care what a motherfucker thought. That was just Mozzi. He came up as the underdog but never let it defeat him. He was typically up for any challenge.
“Time to warm up.” He’d caught Mozzi sliding up on Coast as soon as she hit the Junction booth.
Standing on the sidelines, talking to the refs, Coast caught his eye, and Moose had never seen the nigga move so fast. He pushed through the crowd and sea of women already vying for his attention, acting like he hadn’t just hopped in her whip and caught a ride over here.
“Moose, this my girl, Coast.”
Again, she almost spit her food out. She didn’t realize he knew her name. Moose chortled, slapped his brother on the shoulder, and rested his hand there.
“Oh, yo’ girl? Didn’t you just meet her?” Moose questioned.
“And you already throwing titles around?” Roni demanded.
“I’m going to head back over to my table.” Coast turned on her heel.
“Make sure you grab some water! It’s hot out here!” Mozzi yelled after her.
Coast flipped him the bird, sauntering away with a little extra sway in her walk just for him.
She knew he was watching. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he shook his head.
He was fucking with everything about Coast. She thought he was playing games, so he knew he had to show her.
She wasn’t one of those women about to take a damn thing he said at face value. He fucked with that.
“I’mma marry her.”
“Nigga, please! What about her baby daddy?” Moose challenged.
“Muhfucka might as well just consider himself a sperm donor.” Mozzi voiced.
“You can’t even commit to a favorite fucking pair of shoes.” Moose sniggered and tossed his arm over his shoulder. “Let’s go, so we can beat these West side niggas’ ass,” he encouraged, dragging him away before Roni had a chance to grill him about what had happened.
He caught that fiery glint in her stare and knew Mozzi would flip on her if she tried to get all territorial. She was already sharing him with Gillian and Lin. She’d be damned if she let some basic hoe like Coast step into the picture.
Mozzi was a lot of things, and he loved women.
He dabbled in all kinds of pussy, regularly.
When he stepped to women, only one thing was on his mind.
Getting to know them meant attachments, and he’d formed those with his top three, so he didn’t feel it was needed anywhere else.
Each of them provided something that the other didn’t, creating the perfect woman.
Coast had a vibe that discontinued all of ’em.
He wanted to soak that up, and nobody was going to keep him from it.