“Ok,” she cooed.
Dexter sat back in his seat and adjusted the cuff links on his suit jacket. No longer was Tyler sitting there lost in deep thought. She was happy for the moment... even if it was drug-induced.
When the car came to a stop, Tyler removed the lip gloss from her clutch along with a compact mirror. Dexter watched as she puckered her full lips and reapplied the Fenty gloss. He could never deny how beautiful she was and he couldn’t explain how he envied her confidence. Even when he called himself trying to belittle her, Tyler still lit up the room. Dexter should’ve been honored to have her by his side, but sometimes he wished he would’ve left her where she was.
“Damn, you gone put the entire tube on the motherfuckas,” Dexter blurted.
“Gotta make sure I'm on point.”
“Don’t get in here and get lost, stay by my side. You know I don’t trust these niggas.”
“I hear you.” She flashed him a smile as the car door opened.
Dexter moved ahead of her and stepped out of the truck. Pulling at his sleeve, he glanced at the paparazzi who were on standby, waiting to snap pictures. Dexter felt slighted that they weren’t trying to capture his picture, but he cleared his throat and held his hand out for Bobbi to exit. She waved at the paparazzi, flashing them an award-winning smile, gaining a couple of flashes. Extending his hand again, Dexter helped Tylerstep out of the truck and was almost blinded by the flashing cameras.
“Tyler, this way!”
“Tyler, who are you wearing?”
“Tyler, give us a pose!”
“Tyler!”
“Tyler!”
“Tyler!”
Like the star she was, Tyler held onto Dexter’s arm with one hand, waving to the crowd with the other. She stopped and posed, allowing Dexter to drape his arm around her shoulder. In true Dexter fashion, he threw up a couple of gang signs before groping Tyler’s ass.
“Ty, can we have a minute?” A reporter from a very popular Detroit news blog asked.
“Sure.” She stepped closer to the rope.
“First off, let me just say that you look amazing,” the reporter gushed.
“Thank you so much! The girls over at House of Ki did their thing.”
“You're wearing that outfit, honey. Now I know you finished your tour, which was amazing by the way. I caught three shows and felt like I needed more.”
“Thank you,” Tyler beamed. “A time was had.”
“Is there anything else in the works?”
“Aye, my man, you can find out when everybody else finds out. Let’s go, Ty,” Dexter rudely snapped, almost yanking Tyler away.
Caught off guard, she smiled through the sharp pain that shot up her elbow. It was almost as if he was trying to pull her arm out of the socket. The further they walked, the tighter his grip became. Jealousy had him damn near dragging her up the red carpet and he couldn’t control it.
“You know Carla don’t like all that free press shit. They need to pay for exclusives,” he whispered against Tyler’s ear. “These muthafuckas don’t get shit for free.”
“Dexter, do not grab me like that again. I’m grown and can say what I want. Carla is not my mama, and you aren’t my daddy.”
“What?” Her words made him pause. “Aye, man….” he wiped the corner of his lips. “Don’t get fucking cute because we can go back to the crib.”
“Ty, can we get a picture?” Another reporter called out.
“Fuck outta here with that picture bullshit.” Dexter ignored them, dragging Tyler inside. “Take a picture of these nuts.”
???
