4. DANE
Greatest rapper of all time.
Phenomenal writer.
Amazing storyteller.
Philanthropist.
Elusive heart throb.
Those were all things people said about me. They could add scary ass nigga to the list. Well, not technically. On no day could a nigga play with me. In that case, I wasn’t a scary ass nigga. However, when it came to Justina, I was a scary ass muhfucka.
As I walked into my suite, which was next door to Justina, my phone rang. I answered Angelo’s call, prepared to hear him cackling in my ear like a hyena.
“Well?” he asked.
“I clammed up like a bitch, bruh,” I confessed.
He died laughing on the other end of the phone.
“Nooo, mane. What you mean?” he questioned.
“I mean I fuckin’ choked. Bruh… She’s different, A.” I stalked into the bedroom, fell across the bed, and threw my hand over my face. “Fuck!” I swore.
“Aight, it’s okay. She’s there now, so all you gotta do is bring her home. You got the rest of the day to make up for it. Even the best of us slip up sometimes.”
Sitting straight up, I said, “You right. What the fuck am I doin’?”
“Exactly. Get yo’ shit together.”
“Right. I’ma hit you back.”
I hung up while he laughed at my expense.
I’d never been starstruck, not over anyone.
Justina scratched a spot in my brain that only came alive for her.
That shit was impossible because, truly, I didn’t know her outside of what I’d observed over the years.
Shit, for all I knew, she could be the complete opposite of the woman I thought her to be.
That was why this time with her was crucial.
I wanted to get to know Justina before she slipped through my fingers.
Standing from the bed, I didn’t have a moment’s time to waste.
I was locked in and determined to at least have a decent conversation with her before the day was over.
Before leaving my suite, I freshened up like I hadn’t just showered minutes before hustling downstairs to catch Justina’s ride pulling up.
All that just to stare, babble like a fool, and let her leave my presence without giving her my number. I had to fix it.
With each step I took towards her door, I hyped myself up.
That was the only way to keep from turning around and going back to my suite.
I chuckled because Justina made me feel like I was new at this.
Not because she purposely did anything to render me speechless.
Her lowkey energy just tugged at me fiercely.
My hands were sweating as I stood in front of her door, prepared to knock. Then it swung open, and she stood there looking finer than a muthafucka. She was dressed in a robe, her hair was wet, her body still wet, and her face flushed.
“Hi!’ she said, surprised to see me.
Speechlessly, I stared and fought for something polite to muster up.
She snapped her fingers in front of my face and chuckled. “Earth to Dane. Are you okay?”
“Uhm, yeah, I’m cool.” I lied, then caught myself. “No, you know what. I’m not okay, aight.”
She glanced at me, perplexed. “How ‘bout this. You come show me how to turn off this shower, and while you’re doing so, you can tell me what’s got you all spacey.”
Thinking I’d find a way to keep myself from stepping a foot inside her suite, she made my decision for me by grabbing my hand and pulling me behind her.
She led me all the way to the bathroom which mirrored my bathroom next door.
Steam filled the spa-like interior, but it was the smell of coconuts that steamed my blood.
Promptly, I pressed a few buttons on the wall panel to disable the shower.
“Well, that was fast,” she quipped. “You didn’t even start your story about what’s wrong.”
She stood in the doorway with her hand on her hip like she wasn’t aware of the desire lurking near her.
I scratched the back of my head and cleared my throat.
Here was my chance to say what I needed to say.
After I left the bathroom and put some space between us, of course.
We went back into the living room where I noticed a pair of panties, a T-shirt, and shorts draped over the back of the couch.
I swallowed my tongue and coughed hard to dispel it.
She was in my face in an instant, patting my chest.
“Goodness, maybe you should see a doctor,” she said.
I chuckled and snapped out of it. “I’m not sick, Justina. I’m, uh…” You ever experienced love at first sight? That was what I wanted to ask. I settled for, “I’m smitten.”
Her eyebrows stitched together briefly, then peaked over her big brown eyes. “Smitten? Oh…” She blushed hard and glanced off to avoid the way I stared into her eyes.
“Listen, I don’t mean to be awkward or anything. You just…kind of snatched the usually well-aware, arrogant nigga right outta me,” I confessed.
She covered her mouth as she chuckled. “Really?”
“Really,” I replied. “I came over here to give you my number.”
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she demurely smiled. “As sweet as that sounds, I’ve sworn off rappers for the foreseeable future.”
Gone was the nigga who couldn’t form a fucking sentence around this damn woman. In his place was a nigga hellbent on having her.
“You’ve sworn off rappers?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Not that you keep up with what’s going on in my life, but I did just break up with someone who happens to be a rapper. He spoiled it for anyone wearing that title.”
Suddenly irked that she brought that nigga up, I gritted my back teeth. “That’s impossible, lil’ mama. For starters, I’m much more than a rapper. Secondly, why would you let a fuck nigga like Shy T ruin it for a man like me?”
“A man like you? You mean the man who’s spotted with another woman every other month?”
I chuckled. “Nah, not him. You’d be surprised to know that not all things you see are factual, my baby. I happen to be very selective.”
She chuckled. “I bet. So, what makes you want to select me?”
“You want the truth?” I questioned. “If so, you can’t blame me for what I gotta say.”
Her eyes flashed with something erotically dangerous, but I kept my heart from beating out of my chest.
“Gimme the truth, Mr. Richards,” she answered.
Staring into her eyes, I said, “I’ve been sitting back, watchin’ you, thinkin’ about you, and doin’ my fuckin’ best to stay patient and wait for the chance to approach you.
Sliding in ya DMs was high on my mind, but I knew that wasn’t the way I wanted to come at you.
I counted on that nigga to fuck up, and he did.
So, here I am. I hope he knows he’s never getting you back. ” Not ever.
She blinked at me, processing my words with a subtle smile on her face. After a minute, she chuckled lightly.
“No wonder you’re in conversation as one of the greatest rappers of all time,” she said. “You have a way with words.”
Amused, I said, “Pause. You don’t think I’m the greatest rapper of all time?”
Her smile broadened, and she shrugged. “Personally, there’s a Louisiana-born rapper with locs giving you a run for your money, Big Dane.”
I smiled too. “I can’t even argue with that. Now, back to me having a way with words. I’m not bullshittin’ you. Let me take you to dinner, and we can discuss how you really think that nigga can keep up with me.”
She stifled a laugh and said, “You must think I’m crazy. If I go anywhere outside of this resort with you, we’ll be splattered all over the blogs, and I have enough shit going on. That is not how I intend to spend my time here. If you must know, I’m here to enjoy some quiet time and celebrate—”
“Ya birthday,” I interjected. “Yeah, I know.”
Her lips snapped together, and she peered at me pensively.
“What?” I asked.
“How did you know my birthday’s coming?”
“Besides the fact that I’ve been watchin’ you? You share the same birthday with my mama.”
Her eyes softened, and I could see she wanted to dive into my head. I would allow her that chance once we passed the stage of her saying yes to dinner.
“So, dinner?” I quizzed.
“Where are we going?”
“It’ll be lowkey. I promise.”
She thought for a few more seconds, then replied, “Okay, dinner. Now, get outta my suite Mr. Richards.”
Chuckling, I refrained from releasing the deep breath I was holding until I was on the other side of the door. I breathed out and beat my chest in celebration as I headed back to my suite.