“You fucking that nigga from the club?” he asked.
Oh, the ways men made up shit in their heads. Demi’s jealousy could no longer take a back seat.
“If I was, I wouldn’t be fucking you,” Charlie said. “If I wanted him, I wouldn’t be here with hurt feelings over you.”
Demi blew out a sharp breath, nostrils flaring, face serious. He looked off to the side. Charlie turned his head back to her. “Stay here with me, babe,” she said.
“Your hands, Bird. You been touching every fucking thing.” He grimaced.
“Oh my God! Somebody get this weird nigga some sanitizer!” she exclaimed, letting him go and turning toward the helicopter to get Bails.
Charlie turned and Demi was there. In her space. Looming over her. He was so damn intimidating.
“You think I’m a ho or something,” she said. “First the doctor’s records and now thinking I’m sleeping with Justin. It’s hella disrespectful how you keep coming at me.”
Demi kneeled in front of her, grabbing her shoe and then placing it on her foot, before standing. He was so close to her that his cologne invaded her space. A magic potion, dizzying her. Demi smelled like he was made of crisp, clean water, bergamot, and money. It was intoxicating and she hated how her heart raced, especially in the middle of a fight because she couldn’t stand her ground.
“I’m grown, Bird. I don’t even believe in that childish shit, man. What you do with your pussy is your business. Just let me know if you giving the shit away cuz I won’t make it my business,” he said. It was a rude accusation, but Charlie felt butterflies. His jealousy did something to her, making her stomach flip. She just wanted him to close the space between them and kiss her, manhandle her, anything. A man who didn’t trip over anything but tripped over her was the ultimate turn-on. She didn’t even know what it was about this man that she liked, but she craved him. His presence was the highlight of her days lately. In the short time she had known him, he had become the best part.
“I’m not giving any part of me away unless it’s to you,” she assured. “I lowkey don’t even want to give it to you. I’m in a stage of my life where I want to be a little selfish with me, but you came out of nowhere making me love you and I can’t help it. It’s you,Demi. I just...” she shrugged because it was hard to explain. “It’s just something about you.”
He stood there, staring sternly, facing off with her. Charlie was one of the only people who didn’t shrink under his menacing eye. He had met his match. Charlie’s young, free-spirited, unorganized soul had claimed his. He was mated. He could pretend to reign, but she was queen, his queen. He was just fighting it. It was so hard to contend.
“Say, man,” he said, sighing.
“Say, man,” she shrugged.
“Keep that nigga out of your house, Bird,” Demi said, sounding defeated like he was tired of thinking about it.
“You can’t make the rules in somebody else’s house,” Charlie said.
She shrugged and walked around him, heading to the table to eat.
Silence.
The rest of the night was filled with silence and Charlie was sick. Fighting with him felt like grief, like she had lost someone dear to her. Demi used silence as a weapon and she hated it, but she wasn’t in the business of begging a nigga. If he didn’t want to speak, she wouldn’t force it, but when he was ready to drop it, she hoped he knew she wouldn’t be. She was stubborn that way. Demi might have started this fight, but she would decide how, when andifit ended.
He spent the next three hours on his phone, texting, and stepping away for phone calls. They hit a mall, walking in and out of stores without acknowledging each other. Charlie didn’t even tell him what she liked. She just threw whatever she wanted on the counter for him to pay for and he did, all the while, typing away in his phone and ignoring her. His calm was the fuel to her anger. They both knew it and she hated it. There was nothing worse than a passive-aggressive man. Ifthey were going to fight, she would rather they scream it out. The ignoring and avoiding was torture. It was a prolonging of pain and manipulation of her feelings. It was cruel and Charlie wanted to take his head off.
By the time they were done with the day, she had already decided they were done.
He can lose my number.
She had never had a worse date. The sex was bomb but the treatment afterward was trash and Charlie wouldn’t excuse that in search of an orgasm. As they headed back to Flint, she noticed he sped past her exit.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
“That was my exit, Demi,” she said.
“I don’t need a passenger seat driver, Bird,” he replied, tone impatient and eyes straight ahead. It was the first thing he had said to her in hours.
She crossed her arms and pushed back in her seat in frustration. When they pulled up Downtown to the newly-built loft building, Charlie frowned.
“Who lives here?” she said.
“You do, get out,” he replied.
