“I won’t, but I might use the number still,” she replied.
“Yo, anytime you feel like singing a nigga a song, you put that number to use,” he said.
“You know I legit never invite anybody on my balcony. Not even Stassi’s ass because she talks too much and she be fucking up my vibe,” Charlie said. “But you’re amazing company. You made a bad night better.”
“Why was it bad?” he asked.
“Long story,” she whispered, turning solemn. He saw her light dim as she finished the drink and looked out at the courtyard below them.
“The sun don’t rise for four more hours. We ain’t got nothing but time,” he said. What the entire fuck? He had somewhere to be and here he was committing hours to a girl he’d just met.
She looked up at him, stunned. “Morning? You think I’m letting you stay ‘til morning? A man who just told me he all up and through the streets. You think you resting your head at my house?”
“It ain’t like that, man,” he said, scoffing, dismissing the kingpin fantasy she was building in her head, but fantasy was reality when it came to Demi. He was getting major paper, both legally and illegally. One hustle financing the other and that hustle legitimizing it all. She didn’t need to know that, though.
“So, you really think I’m a one-night stand type of girl?” she asked, laughing. She was fake offended because the way her pussy was pulsing in his presence, she knew all he had to do was say the right thing and that’s the exact type of girl she would become.
“I ain’t say that,” he said. “Girls like you, with your sage and your whole earthy shit you got going...”
“Earthy?” she snickered.
“Yeah, the whole, natural, Erykah Badu vibe you got. Women like that ain’t on no one-night shit. You gon’ make a nigga earn it.”
She fought her smile. All this damn smiling. Him. Her. Just a level of comfort two strangers shouldn’t feel.
“What’s your favorite color, Bird?” he asked.
“So, we’re back in the safe zone, asking shit that don’t matter? Okay, I’ll play,” she said. “Blue.”
“Blue?” he frowned.
“What’s wrong with blue?” she laughed, hitting her vape pen.
“What’s right about it?” he asked, frowning.
“It’s the color of the sky,” she said. “So, I get like anxious and my whole body just kind of betrays me sometimes. I start overthinking, I have a hard time breathing, and I just kind of lose it a little. When I get like that, I smoke, and I put in headphones. I go outside and find grass. Doesn’t matter where I am. I take off my shoes so I can feel the ground beneath me, you know? Then I lay down and I look up at the sky and it’s so blue. It’s like the prettiest blue ever. And I sing and I feel better. So, blue is my fav.”
“Damn, blue it is,” he conceded.
“What’s your favorite color?” she asked.
“Blue,” he answered, licking his lips and lifting the Hennessey to his mouth to hide his amusement.
“Seriously?” she laughed. “You’re impossible.” She shook her head. “Making fun of me and shit.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t do that. You cool as fuck. Like the most interesting mu’fucka I don’ met in a long time,” he admitted.
“Same,” she replied. They stared at one another, but awkwardness tore their gaze apart and Charlie looked down. “So, you’re favorite color?”
“Blue, nigga,” he answered. “I like what you like. Whatever you like.”
“Niggas be so full of shit,” she cackled.
The song she was playing restarted and he pointed to the speaker. “How many times you gon’ listen to this song?”
“Probably for a few days straight,” she admitted.
Anybody else I’d be gone by now
