I smiled, feeling excited about our date night. After all, I was just a lover girl who was forced to be a real nigga. We were only a few months into this relationship, and I believed it could be something long-term. I really wanted a two-parent household for my baby, but I wouldn’t settle for just any man to make it happen. He had to be perfect for us, no pun intended.
“Alright, that’s cool. I’ll make sure I leave the shop in time to get ready.”
We chatted back and forth until I was ready to head out for the night. As I laughed at something Keiran said while locking up, I could say Perfect was totally forgotten. My life was good. I was good. I would be fine if I never saw him again.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled when I glanced over the glass of champagne I was about to sip and saw Perfect heading toward me with a huge bouquet of red roses. Our gazes locked, and a cocky smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. My mouth fell open because, honestly, he looked so fucking good that every woman he passed turned to follow him with their eyes. And his cologne . . . I could smell the woodsy scent long before he reached the table.
Picking up on my expression, Keiran leaned forward. “What? What is it?” He looked up just as Perfect reached our table.
I kept my eyes straight ahead because what could I really say? What was he even doing here? And why had he come with flowers? “Hey, Princess,” he greeted me.
His deep voice made the hairs on my arms stand up, but I refused to give him my attention. Keiran cleared his throat. “Um, you know him, bae?”
Port chuckled. I saw him motion from my peripheral, and I realized he was getting the attention of our waitress. “Can you bring me a chair, please?”
That made me sit up straight in my seat. “You don’t need a chair. What are you even doing here, Port? As you can see, I am on a date with my boyfriend right now.” I was very clear and concise with my words because the last thing I wanted was for Kei to get the wrong idea about Perfect’s presence. I was not encouraging this in the slightest bit.
For some reason, the waitress actually brought him a chair, and he sat down. He handed the flowers toward me with a grin. “How, when you’re on a date with me?”
My head jerked back. Oh, this man had lost his marbles in the last three years. Instead of replying, I studied him. He wore matte-black leather pants with a black, designer, short-sleeved button-up that was left open enough to expose his chiseled chest. There was a diamond chain around his neck with aPon it that sparkled every time he moved. His wrists were covered in diamond bracelets and a Rolex that was definitely real. I’d done my big one on his haircut yesterday because the nigga looked like his damn name, and I hated it.
“I brought these for you.” Instead of accepting the roses, I folded my arms over my chest. “Really? How long you going to give me the cold shoulder?”
I scoffed. “How long is forever?”
Keiran leaned back in his seat, eyes bouncing from me to Perfect, trying to piece together whatever was happening. I didn’t even have words for this, because he was not supposed to be here. What kind of a man interrupted a date so boldly? He hadn’t even acknowledged my man’s presence once. All of his attention was on me, and it made me squirm in my seat.
“Rockel, do you want to clue me in on what’s happening?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Perfect answered for me. “What’s happening is I need you to head on out. Princess was supposed to clear this time block in her evening for me.”
I laughed because Perfect really had audacity about him. “You’re crazy,” I said, bewildered by his act.
He leaned forward, licked his lips, and genuinely smiled. “Crazy about you, El. I told you we needed to talk.”
“And I told you I had nothing to say to you.”
“You been talking to this nigga?” Kei asked, jumping into the conversation.
I shook my head. “No.”
At the same time, Port decided to be the spawn of Satan and say, “Hell yeah. She loves talking to me.”
I pinned him in place with a glare that was sharp enough to pierce his smooth, brown skin. He leaned back in his seat with a smirk. “I don’t like this. It’s givingif I can’t have you, no one else can,” I said.
He nodded. “Good, so you understand what the fuck is going on then.”
I groaned, allowing my head to fall back. Deciding to ignore Perfect altogether, I turned to Kei. “I have not been talking to him, baby. He came into the shop for a haircut last night. He expressed wanting the chance to have a private conversation, but I declined and told him that I never wanted to see him again.”
“You didn’t mean it,” Port said.
My eyes shot to him. “How you going to tell me what I do and don’t mean?”
“Because I know you. You still care about me.”
I shook my head. “You knew me. You lost any access to me when you walked out of my life three years ago. When I said I didn’t want to see you again, I meant it.”
Recognition flashed in Kei’s eyes. “Oh, is this?—”
