“First off, that’s not my nigga. Secondly, I didn’t answer it because I chose not to,” she shot, and her phone started ringing again.
She took her eyes off me, so that she could reach for her phone. She looked to see who was calling, and I did the same. The nigga was hitting her back. This time, her ass boldly answered the phone, while picking up Romy, and she handed her over to me.
“Hey,” she answered, sounding real familiar with that nigga.
I could have walked out of the room, but Romy, and I stayed right here. Both of us all in her mouth, waiting to hear what she was going to say to him. I don’t know what that nigga said to her, but she started smiling, and then she laughed.
“I can’t. I’m home with my daughter. She isn’t feeling well,” she told him.
I was going to stand here and keep quiet. I wasn’t going to make a sound and fuck up the little motion that she had going on with that nigga.
“If I can get a sitter, I’ll come,” she voiced. He said something else, and she laughed.
“Okay. I’m going to call you back,” and then she hung the phone up, and tossed it down on the bed.
“How long you been fuckin that nigga?” I asked her the second that she hung the phone up.
“Why? Rico, do I ask you about the hoes that you fuck? No! Move. I’ll go out in the family room, while you put her to sleep because I can already tell that your about to get on my nerves,” she snapped, trying to get up, but I blocked her path, not letting her move.
“I’m just asking you simple questions. How long you been fuckin him?” I wanted to know.
“I don’t know. Like a month. Why?” she asked.
“I thought that nigga was fuckin that rapper chick from New York. What’s her name? Cindy?” I asked.
“That’s old. Like, real fuckin old. Probably three years old. That girl is engaged now, and pregnant by someone else,” she said it in a way like I sounded dumb for not knowing that.
“Shit, I don’t know. I play ball and stay the fuck out the way. I don’t keep up with who that nigga dating. How you met him?” I asked.
“Rico, whyyyyy?” she dragged that shit out, like she was annoyed as hell with me.
“Damn, I can’t ask? You acting like you in trouble or some shit. I just want to know,” I replied.
She sighed, rolled her eyes, and then looked me in my eyes.
“I was at a lounge with my girls, and he was there with a few of his teammates. He sent bottles to our table, and then he came over and talked to me. I haven’t fucked with a nigga in over a year. The whole time that I was pregnant with Romy, I was only dealing with your ass. Romy just turned four months, so I’m just now getting back outside. It’s not serious what me and Marquez are doing. At least, not right now it isn’t. I’ve been to a few of his games, we chill, have fun, but I don’t know where it’s going to go with us because my business is here, and we have our daughter, and even though you get on my fuckin nerves, I’ll never move away with your child,” she said some real shit to me, and I just nodded my head towards what she was saying.
“You had Romy around him?” I went ahead and asked her the million-dollar question.
“No, and you know I didn’t, so I don’t know why you asked me that,” she responded.
“Shit, I don’t know what you and that nigga be laid up doing. For all I know, you could have been trying to play house with him, having him think that he was a step daddy to my daughter. I don’t care what you do on your free time. You grown at the end of the day. All I ask is that if you going to do that, run that shit by me first, so that I could look that nigga in his eyes, and threaten him. Gotta make sure he knows that I’ll kill when it comes to my child,” I voiced, walking away from her, and I went to take a seat at the ottoman, that was right at the foot of her bed.
I was still holding onto Romy, and she wasn’t fussing anymore. She was getting sleepy, so I cradled her in my arms.
“Rico, please! Did you even handle the last nigga that pulled up on me, and your daughter? His crazy ass walked into my salon, where I was in the blind, not knowing what the fuckhe wanted, and I doubt that you handled it yet. If you didn’t handle that, then I know that you damn sure not going to handle Marquez,” she said, and when she spat that shit at me, I shot her a nasty look, as if I wanted to get up, and slap fire from her ass.
“So, what you saying? You trying to say that I’m pussy?” I asked, and that question made her groan, as if she was annoyed with me.
“Rico, where the hell did I say that you were pussy? I basically said that you just be saying shit. You was supposed to been handled that shit. No way you should be letting a nigga continue to move around breathing, after he pulled up on us,” she shot.
I didn’t say shit because at the end of the day, she was telling the truth. It was a fucked-up thing to have to hear it because I was already thinking it. I knew that I wasn’t pussy. I knew that I’ve always been the kind of nigga to handle my business when I needed to. This was real life at the end of the day. One fuck up from me could change the trajectory of my fuckin life. I was a high-profile nigga. Damn near half the world knew me because of the beast that I was on that field, so I had to be cautious with the way that I moved. It was going to get handled. I just had to play it smart.
“Your cousin dating Dionne?” she asked me after ten minutes of us sitting in silence.
Her question caught me off guard, so I turned my head, looking at her. Romy had fallen asleep in my arms, so it was just the two of us up.
“Why? And how you know her?” I asked.
