I stilled, quickly pivoted, and aimed the Nerf ball I’d been tossing up and down in my hands at Kelvin who laid on the bed. He caught it easily.
“Nice hands.”
“All that damn pacing. What’re you listening to?” he finally asked, sitting up.
Reluctantly, I pulled my phone out of the waistband of my shorts and paused the recording.
“A podcast,” I answered.
“The crime and theory one I told you about?” His eyes grew wider with excitement. Kelvin was a true crime buff. He’d told me about a popular podcast that traced a twenty-year-old crime from start to finish, questioning whether or not the wrong person had been put away for it.
“I’m telling you, man, I think it was the best friend who did it. No way it was the ex. He got a raw deal,” Kelvin blathered on, shaking his head.
“No, I’m not listening to your true crime shit,” I grunted. “I’m listening to Destiny’s podcast.”
He scrunched his eyebrows. “Destiny,” he repeated her name before snapping his fingers. “Oh, right. Fine Nia Long chick from this morning.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Watch your mouth. She’s not a damnchick.And I already told you, she’s more beautiful than Nia Long.” The actress was gorgeous, but Destiny was … Destiny.
Kelvin pushed out a long whistle. “Whoa,” he stated as he stared at me.
I decided to ignore him and went to press play to continue listening.
“How many episodes have you listened to so far?”
“Almost on number four.”
He shook his head. “That’s nearing four hours. I don’t think I can remember the last time a woman has held your attention that long.”
I gave him a middle finger but he was right. Most things didn’t hold my attention for very long, save for football. The fact that I’d spent this long listening to her voice, hadn’t escaped my attention. But as I was about to hit play my phone rang. A smile crept over my face when I saw my oldest brother’s name pop up.
“Diego!” I answered. It was almost eight o’clock, close to his bedtime. He always called me right before he went to bed on the nights his father was home from the station. My oldest brother, Carter, was a firefighter in Williamsport.
“Hey, Uncle Ty! Guess what?”
“What?” I questioned, sounding just as enthused as he was.
“Mama and Daddy said we can come visit you on your family day at training camp again. And this time, Kyle and Kennedy can come. Isn’t that awesome?”
I laughed at how excited he sounded. “Hell yeah, little buddy.”
“Watch your damn mouth when talking to my kid!” Carter’s voice bellowed from the background.
“I was wondering when your nosy ass was going to butt into the conversation between my nephew and I,” I retorted.
“Good thing I was, too. Remember, you’re talking to a nine year old. I know that’s only a year or two beneath your mental age, but—”
“Fuck you!” I growled to Carter’s laughter.
“Ooooh, Uncle Ty you said a bad word. My daddy makes Uncle Don, at the fire station, put money in a swear jar whenever he swears in front of me.”
I chuckled. “What’s the matter, Carter? Firefighting not paying the bills so you gotta hustle your fellow firefighters out of money now?” I teased.
“Nope. Trying to teach barbarians like Don and yourself to show some damn respect.”
“Oooh, Daddy you said damn.”
“That’s not a real curse word, son.”
