“Troi, where the hell you been?” Onyx had to be mad because he never called Troi by her given name.
“I’m sure you know where I’ve been, Onyx. I couldn’t just keep ignoring her.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because she’s basically my mumma too. She didn’t sound like herself when we spoke, so I went to check on her.”
“Ain’t shit wrong with her ass.”
“Don’t be too hard on Troi baby, Nyx. She’s just being her usual caring self, but you …” Kas paused, pointed at Yanna. “Where the fuck is your loyalty?”
“With Miss Layla, duh,” Yanna replied, playfully mushing Kas in the head.
“You ain’t real. Where she at anyway?”
“Oh umm, she’ll be back tomorrow,” Troi replied to Onyx, him and Kas giving each other knowing glances.
“I’mma make her pick out a switch when she get back home. She need a fucking whooping.”
The group couldn’t help but laugh at Kas’ foolery as they piled into Onyx and Troi’s home. The girls allowed the brothers to venture upstairs while they stayed in the living room, quietly debating if they thought Layla had something going on with Nouri. Around 1 a.m., after downing a whole bottle of wine, the girls decided it was time to call it a night. They climbed the stairs so Troi could go to bed and Yanna could drag Kas home. However, when they reached the bedroom, both their hearts stilled at the sight before them. It looked like Kas and Onyx had talked so much they’d fallen asleep. Kas was snuggled under the covers comfortably as if he was in his own bed. Onyx was sprawled next to him, hands tucked behind his head while Kian slept peacefully between them.
“Now that is just too fucking adorable,” Yanna stated.
“It really is. All the Zaman men, looking like three different stages of the same person.”
“Don’t they? Alright, come on, guess we sleeping in the guest rooms tonight.”
“Yea, looks like it. We need rest… I have a feeling the days to come are going to be draining as fuck.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Yanna waved her hand in front of her face, attempting to fan away the thick cloud of weed smoke. With her other hand, she swatted away the wayward hands of men trying to cop a feel as she pranced her way through the club. Though Yanna enjoyed working as a bottle girl, she’d long ago gotten tired of the flirting men and catty women. The money was good, but it was starting to not be worth the headache. She wondered how long it would be before she called it quits and found other means of employment. With a shot of Don Julio in her hand, she marched her way to the DJ booth. When she approached, Destin tossed her a smile that wasn’t as panty wetting as Kas’ but still dazzling enough to produce one of her own.
“Hey, Des,” she greeted once she reached the booth.
“Fine ass Yanna, what up? I missed you.”
“Boy, quit wailing, you know damn well you ain’t miss me. I was just with you a week ago.”
“Why I didn’t? All these other bottle girls in here be thirsty as hell, always up on a nigga knowing damn well it’s only one person in here I want.”
“Yea? And who would that be?”
“You know exactly who that is.”
Yanna smiled again, admiring Destin’s honey brown skin, sharp facial features, and almond shaped penny brown eyes. He was right, she knew he was speaking of her, because he’d made his attraction for her evident several times before. Though she liked Destin and found him to be fine as hell, she had no desire to take things between them beyond friendship.
“You don’t want me, Des, trust me.”
“The hell I don’t. All you gotta do is give a nigga a chance. Let me take you out. And I don’t mean you coming over and crashing on my couch for a few hours, or us going to a crowded ass bar.”
“No. I like our friendship way too much, and I don’t want to ruin it. I’d probably make you hate me.”
“I doubt that, but you telling me no ain’t doing nothing but making me want yo ass more.”
“There’s a word for that.”
“Persistent?”
