“Hmm, until today I’ve never heard of you.”
“Damn,” Dexter nodded. His ego wouldn’t allow him to believe that she didn’t know who he was. Like most women he encountered, Dexter chose to believe she was playing hard to get.
“Cousin, don’t be rude.” Bobbi nudged her. “Dex, you know you’re the shit, she doesn’t have good taste.”
“Nah, it’s cool. I like her honesty.” Dexter licked his lips, knowing that if she were anybody else, he would have dogged her out. “Yall wanna come back to my section?”
“Hell yea!” Bobbi snatched up their bottle of Tito’s without waiting to see what Tyler was going to say. It was a no-brainer to her. You didn’t turn a nigga like Dexter down. “Oh, and my cousin can sing, yall might can do a song together.”
“You sing?” Dexter’s eyes lit up.
“A little,” Tyler replied.
“Then you gotta come talk to me, baby girl. We have something in common. I’ll get yall another bottle and we can vibe.” He extended his hand. “Cool?”
Even if she wanted to say no, Bobbi was behind him nodding her head yes.
“Ok, cool,” Tyler accepted his hand.
“I thought I was about to have to beg for a little of your time.” Dexter flashed her a smile.
“You don’t strike me as the type to beg.”
“You got it all wrong, I’m a begging ass nigga if it’s for something I want.”
“And what do you want?” Tyler arched her eyebrow.
“I want you,” Dexter answered honestly. “I want to go over there and talk with you, vibe, drink, and in the morning, I want to take you to get breakfast.”
“Fine, but breakfast doesn’t come with booty,” Tyler smirked, tapping the tip of his nose before walking off.
“Remember what I said that morning at breakfast?” Dexter asked, stepping between Tyler’s legs, bringing her back from the memory that vividly played in her mind. “I told you I was going to make you a star,” he said, kissing her lips.
“Yea, you said that and then proceeded to make me fall in love with your dog ass.” Tyler mushed him in the forehead. “Get out, I’m trying to take a shower.”
“Aight, I’ll give you some space, but we a team, Ty baby, don’t do me like that.”
“Yea, right, a team.” She closed the door in his face.
???
Logic leaned against the wall, watching intensely as Duce fiddled with the soundboard. Something was missing and neither of them could put their finger on it. While Al was smoking and drinking, waiting for Duce to find whatever was missing, Logic was standing directly over his shoulder.
“Aye, sit the fuck down,” Al jested. “Why you standing all on this man's back? Go get a plate.”
“I’m not eating shit out of this bitch. Pearl in here frying chicken, braiding hair, drinking, and throwing ass. That shit burnt and half-done at the same time, make it make sense.”
“Fuck you, Lo!” Pearl yelled out from the living room. “I had the fire too high. Eat some of the chicken in the microwave. It’s better.”
“How the fuck you gone offer this nigga my food?” Duce peered up from his laptop. “I bought the shit.”
“Boy, fuck you. Go get that stripper bitch to make you a plate. I’ll fuck around and soak your chicken in bleach before I fry it. Have yo ass foaming at the mouth.”
“Period, sister,” Pearl’s sister, Diamond, instigated. “Clock all that nigga tea and Lo, the chicken not that bad.”
“I’m good, love,” Logic assured her before turning his attention back to Duce. “Turn up the bass and lower the percussions on the intro and slow the beat down.”
Doing as instructed, Duce made the adjustments and his eyes lit up. Logic was right, and from the grin on his face, he knew it. Recognizing the fire in his best friend's eyes, Al bopped over to them with a blunt hanging from his mouth. He took a puff and handed it to Logic so he could pull his phone out.
