How you want me if you got a girl?
Demi watched the music move through her body, despite the fact that she didn’t move an inch. Only her finger tapped softly against her thigh. Oh, how he wanted to be that finger, keeping the tempo, to his heart. Why the fuck was his heart beating at her command? He swallowed the lump in his throat, clearing his discomfort as the bridge hit. Her voice was soft as it floated into the air. She wasn’t trying, but no effort from Charlie was like an award-winning performance from anybody else. Her voice made goosebumps sprout on his forearms.
I’ll just keep him satisfied through the weekend
You’re like 9 to 5, I’m the weekendddd
Make him lose his mind for the weekenddd
The lyrics played in his mind long after they ended and as he pulled up to her townhome, he used the button on his steering wheel to lower the volume.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said. “Much better than the Uber.”
“Not a problem,” he replied.
She got out and was halfway to her building when she turned back for the car.
He rolled down the passenger window.
“Hey, do you have somewhere to be?” she asked.
He looked at the clock. Did he? He knew he should probably answer differently but instead, he said, “You get in Ubers in themiddle of the night, invite niggas you don’t know in your house. You living a real thug life.”
Her laughter was warming. It heated his entire middle and Demi glanced down, wondering if she could see the fire she caused. Women were a motherfucka. They were some powerful, voodoo, intuition-having, dick-hardening, motherfuckas. Her essence was created to arouse his nature and everything about Demi was triggered by her, most of all, his intrigue. And Demi wasn’t a man who took interest easily.
“I know you. You’re Demi. I’m Charlie,” she said sarcastically. “Nigga, you coming in or not?”
“I’ma opt-out. You be good, though,” he said.
“I’m a little better at being bad,” she challenged. “But if you pussy just say that.” She shrugged, looking away from him, as a smirk spread her mauve-colored lips. She had licked her lipstick off but the natural pink of them was better. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, actually, and those teeth. Pretty-ass teeth that were small and neat, like she had worn braces once upon a time. He felt like a stalker the way he was annotating every detail of her face.
She pulled a full laugh from him with that one. If only she knew.
“Yo, baby, you asking for problems,” he warned. “This ride got a height requirement. Got to get your weight up first, Ms. Charlie. Goodnight, bird.”
“Bird?” she repeated, brow bent. She had been teased for years for being small and skinny. She had heard it all coming up as a kid. It had made her defensive and had made her bite real viscious because people stayed trying her with their bark. She had learned that people normally backed down when she stood up for herself.
“Chill, killa,” he said. Amusement forced a vague smile onto his lips. “I don’t want no smoke. Songbird. It’s a compliment. No disrespect,” he said.
Her face softened.
“Night,” she said, retreating.
He waited until she was inside her door before he pulled off into the night.
Charlie entered her place and her Bulldog, Bails, automatically came to her feet.
“I missed you, Bails. Such a good boy. Mama loves you,” she cooed, bending to rustle his blocky head. He rested right at her feet. He was a lazy boy and she was doing too much for his grumpy taste. She giggled as she bypassed him, sighing at the relief she felt. This was her solace. To anyone else, it was chaotic, but to her it was perfect. She had lived with a lot of mental noise around her for a long time. This place was hers and hers alone. Eclectic in taste, none of her furniture matched. A royal blue couch was the focal point of the room. She walked the path to her room, hurrying upstairs, bypassing the basket of clean clothes she had been telling herself she would fold for a week.
Tomorrow,she promised herself. Another lie, but hey it sounded good.
That was the beauty of living alone. Her own rules applied. Charlie shed her dress along the way to her room, leaving it in the middle of the floor as she headed for the shower. She turned on the water but instead of stepping inside, she pulled open the drawer, removing her portable Beats Pill and the vape pen she kept there. Charlie pulled her hair in a top knot and stood in themirror in her panties and bra as she pulled the smoke into her lungs.
She felt instant relief. The anxiety, the fear she lived with daily, instantly floated outside of her body. Charlie connected her phone, pressing play.
Alina Baraz matched her vibe, and she took another hit.
Charlie sang to the mirror, pointing to herself and vibing before turning to the shower. She stepped one foot inside when heavy knocks halted her. She startled, turning toward the open bathroom door and looking out into the hallway like someone would magically appear. Her heart raced as she grabbed her silk robe, tying it before going toward the door.
