This would happen to her. The nigga had literally caught her in the garbage. Charlie shook her head and planted her face in her hands.
“Demi?” she called out, wincing in embarrassment from her throne of trash.
“Yup,” he called back, laughter in his tone.
Charlie grabbed the edge of the dumpster and peeked out over the side. He was so damn fine, standing there looking up at her, and Charlie shrank in embarrassment, lowering back down.
Just throw the whole day away,she thought.
“You want to tell me what you doing, Bird?” he yelled.
“Nope! Nothing I can say makes this moment any better,” she said, finally climbing out, struggling to gain her balance as she slipped all over the trash.
Demi cringed, wiping his hands down the top of his head. He would help but nah. He didn’t do shit like this. She would have to clean this mess up on her own. His skin was crawling just looking at her.
“Yo, you got some kinda bullshit...” He fingered his cheek to motion to the spot where something white marked her cheek.
She hopped down, feeling disgusting, as she wiped the spot on her cheek.
“You’re probably hella grossed out right now,” she said.
“Emphasis on hella,” he answered. “What you doing out here?”
“I threw your card away,” she said, shrugging in defeat.
Demi bit down on his bottom lip and nodded. “You feeling the kid that much where you diving in a fucking dumpster to get at me?”
“The kid?” she teased, laughing. “Oh, you’re real cool, speaking about yourself in third person.”
He snickered. “Now’s not the time to talk about cool, Bird. You’re covered in baby shit and old sour cream.”
Charlie frowned and flicked goop off her fingertips. “Come in. I need to shower, but I have… umm... just give me a minute, please?” she asked.
“Take your time,” he said. “Take a nice, LONG, shower.” She chuckled as she watched him pull into a parking space. Charlieretrieved her bag and guitar case and then led him inside. Bails barked instantly as soon as Charlie stepped in the door.
“Hey, Bails. Hey, baby boy,” she cooed. Always so eager to see him.
“Five minutes,” she said, rushing upstairs.
“Nah, Bird, you gon’ need a few more. I’m not going nowhere, wash ya ass,” he said.
Demi sat on the couch, eyeing Bails as the dog inched near him. “The fuck on, man,” he said, body tensing. Bails only inched closer to him, until he was sitting directly at Demi’s feet, head leaned onto his palms, big, emotion-filled eyes looking up at Demi.
“This fucking dog shit,” Demi mumbled. He sat there, going through his phone as he heard music floating from the second floor and the sound of the shower running. He was glad she took her time. He would be more comfortable with her that way. She tended to like to touch, and at least he’d know her hands were clean.
The knock at the door lifted Demi’s eyes and he looked back toward the stairs. The second knock lifted him from his seat. He climbed the stairs, headed to her bedroom. Of course, she showered with the door open. The silhouette of her body through the frosted glass door burned into his mind but he didn’t look long, averting his eyes out of respect.
“Yo, Bird, somebody at your door,” he said.
“Can you answer it? It’s probably my friend. I’m almost done in here,” she shouted.
A third knock and this time her doorbell. Whoever it was, was persistent.
Demi swaggered to the door and was unprepared for the man who stared back at him. In one hand he carried a brown paper bag that reeked of cheap Chinese. In the other hand, he carried his guitar.
“Not who I expected to see at all. Charlie here?” Justin asked.
Demi recognized him from the night before. He stepped aside and Justin walked in as Charlie rushed down the stairs. Of all the things Demi could have focused on it was her toes that stuck out to him most. A different color on every toe, Demi thought her feet looked like Skittles. He would bet his bottom dollar on it that they tasted like Skittles too. That pussy too. Demi’s mind was in the gutter. He knew it because he had never thought of putting his mouth on a woman before that very moment.
