“I thought we could have some fun before we got there,” she whispered, leaning over to kiss on my neck.
“P, chill with all that,” I said, shrugging her off. “I’m not trying to have your makeup all over my clothes and get there smelling like sex.”
She sucked her teeth and poked her bottom lip out. “Thought you liked the way my pussy smelled,” she mumbled.
“Don’t start this shit,” I sighed, already regretting that I brought her.
“Start what, Money? I’m just trying to love on my man before his party.”
“Your what?” I almost choked on my drink. I set the glass down and turned to face her. “Princess, we’ve never been anything more than fuck buddies—please be so fucking for real right now.”
Her face dropped, and her bottom lip started to quiver. “But?—”
I held up my hand, cutting her off. “Nah. Don’t do that. I appreciate you being around during my recovery—but I never asked you to do that. And if you’re gonna be on some goofy shit tonight, I’ll have Hassan turn around and take your ass home.”
She glared at me, her mouth drawn in a thin line, clearly debating whether to crash out or not. But she didn’t say shit, and we didn’t say another word for the rest of the ride. Hassan turned the music up to fill the silence while we busied ourselves with our phones.
“Fix your face,” I muttered as we pulled up to Palladium.
Outside was jumping. Cars were double-parked, folks were arguing with security, and the line stretched down the block. Cameras started flashing the second I stepped out. Hassan had to hold the photographers back while I helped Princess out of the car.
The woman was irksome, but I had to admit she had that shit on tonight. Her white mesh dress looked painted on, and her hair was slicked into a high ponytail that brushed her ass.
Three glasses of champagne and half an edible in, I was halfway rethinking about cutting her off after tonight.
Halfway.
“Bout time you got here, bitch nigga!” Jelani hollered from the club entrance, grinning. “Bring your bougie ass on!”
I laughed, shaking my head as we bypassed the line and walked up.
Inside was packed. The DJ had the crowd going crazy spinning Lil Baby’sNever Finished. The whole place smelled like weed, sweat, and bad decisions about to be made.
I threw my arm around Princess’s waist, rapping bar for bar with Lani as we pushed through the dance floor. Cheers erupted the second we hit the stop of the VIP stairs. Slim, Fontaine, and the rest of the crew were already posted up with bottles, blunts, and beautiful women. Bottles were popping, and the drinks were flowing.
The vibe was immaculate.
“This is love,” I said, clapping my brother on the back. “Thank you, bruh.”
“Don’t get soft on me now, pussy,” he laughed, pulling me in for a hug before I could brush him off.
“Whatever, dickhead,” I smirked.
“What’s up, Jelani?” Princess cut in, handing me a shot.
“P,” he said flatly, not even bothering to look at her. He hated Princess, but he had promised me he would be cordial with her tonight.
I tossed back the shot, the burn settling in my chest as I scanned the crowd below.
“Security is tight tonight,” Jelani said, leaning against the railing.
“I wish a nigga would try and fuck up my party,” I scoffed, getting heated at the thought.
“They won’t,” he said, tapping the piece tucked into his waistband. “But if they do… you already know?—”
“We on go,” I finished our old line.
“Ay! We turnin’ up, or y’all finna talk all night?” Slim yelled, waving a bottle of Hennessy and a blunt in the air.
