Chesteria chuckled, but not the cute kind; that “I’m trying not to spazz in front of company” kind.
“This… this is wild,” she said, rubbing her temple, clearly in need of an Advil, a nap, an emotional support blunt, everybody in the room to shut the hell up at the same time,andGod to pull up personally.
“I’ll say,” Isis subtly agreed, touching me like I hadn’t just cut her off mid-sentence and made it clear she was irrelevant. “So, babe,” she continued, “what are we going to do? Surely we’re not staying here. I mean, we don’t want to interrupt theiralonetime.”
Alone time? Them in the same bed? Her wearing a bonnet, cuddled up with him, giggling at some weak ass Netflix movie—maybe even fucking?
That thought had my blood boiling.
I shoved Isis off me, rejecting the contact like a blanket in the summer—unnecessary and irritating.
“For the last damn time, and I do mean the last time, stop calling me that babe shit. I’ve told you ten times too many. You wanna see what happens if you say it an eleventh time? Go ahead… try me. I promise you’ll be walking back to the city with God on yo’ side and yo’ heels in yo’ hand.”
Isis stood there, lips parted, thoughts nowhere in sight and dignity not far behind.
“Oh… and we’re staying tonight,” I announced to Chesteria.
Chesteria folded her arms angrily. “Really, Bryce? But this isn’t even your month.”
“Right!” Isis jumped in, head snapping like she had a valid point and her opinion carried weight… only to get shut down with a quick turn of Chesteria’s head and one lifted brow.
“I ain’t ask for a group vote!” Chesteria snapped, eyes wide with that I’m-fresh-out-of-grace expression like Isis had been tapping her last nerve with stilettos, and they’d barely shared air for five minutes.
Isis blinked, confused. “Excuse me?!”
“No, I won’t,” Chesteria returned, voice smooth but dipped in venom. “Whatever excuse Bryce gave you to tag along, baby, I promise you, it’s invalid. I don’t care if he told you that you were the second coming of Christ, this isn’t your cabin, and it damn sure isn’t your conversation.”
“Girl, you don’t even know me to be talking to me like that!” Isis hissed.
Chesteria smirked. “And yet, somehow, I already don’t like you. Isn’t that wild?”
I’d heard enough. Plus, Chesteria had fast and seasoned hands. And the way her body shifted, I knew she was one wrong eyebrow twitch away from beating Isis into next week and asking questions later.
“Look, everybody chill!” I barked.
Isis flinched, startled by the bass in my voice, but her pissed-off expression stayed locked and loaded like she was trying to reload her comebacks. The nigga Adrian didn’t even look up. He was leaning against the wall, casually eating trail mix like it was game day and the fight card just got announced. And Chesteria? Unbothered.
I turned to face her fully. “Now, back to you. Damn, you must really want to spend some quality time with this nigga, huh?”
“Bryce, this has nothing to do with me trying to spend time with anyone! Don’t turn this on me! It’s the principle! We set boundaries and agreements for a reason—to avoid awkward situations like this! More than anything, it was aboutspace!”
Regardless of how I felt about the whole situation, Chesteria was right. We did set that shit up to keep things clean and keep our distance unless it was our turn. But none of that shit mattered at that moment. Every rule we made flew out the window the second after seeing her there, looking how she looked, standing beside another nigga who clearly didn’t belong in our atmosphere. That flipped every switch I had. I didn’t say how I really felt in that moment, because yeah, I did fuck up… but so did she. Chesteria just wasn’t ready to admit it.
“I know,” I finally said in acknowledgment. “Fuck… I know.”
My fists clenched at my sides.
“On some real shit, me showing up wasn’t on no petty shit. I swear I thought this was my month, so I didn’t even know you’d be here… especially with another nigga.”
I turned and glared at that nigga, mentally taking measurements for his funeral suit.
My stare held long and hard enough for him to feel it, even if he was dumb enough to act like he didn’t.
“This is still my property too, Chess,” I reminded her.“Your name might be on the deed, but so is mine, sweetheart. So youain’t the only owner, and I’m not some uninvited guest who’s trespassing. Don’t forget that.”
Chesteria didn’t argue; she gave me that same cute-ass eye roll that used to have her legs wide open in minutes, begging me not to stop. That look alone used to get her flipped, face down, ass up, clawing at sheets like her life depended on it. It didn’t matter where we were—bedroom, kitchen counter, backseat, or hallway floor—once she gave me that look, it was game over. And she knew it… yet she still did it… and it still had that effect.
“Adding to that,” I continued. “It’s fuckin’ dark outside, I’m tired, and I’ve had a long-ass day.” I looked at Isis like she was part of the trash on top. “And this shit right here has made my long-ass day even longer. I also didn’t drive four hours out here just to turn around and do another four. That shit is dead.”
