She jumped slightly, her head snapping toward me. "Damn, Juste! Can you not sneak up on me?" I chuckled, pushing off the frame as I stepped into the kitchen. I slid up behind her, my hands immediately finding her waist, gripping low, just above her ass. I felt her body shudder slightly as I leaned down, my lips brushing against her ear. "You keep makin' breakfast like this, ima have to keep you around."
She rolled her eyes. "You already got me around." I smirked, gripping her tighter. "Yeah... but I need to make sure you ain't gettin’ no ideas 'bout leavin'." She scoffed, flipping the bacon, but I could tell she was feeling this. I ran my hand down her hip, my fingers grazing the hem of that short-ass dress, teasing. "You tryna get my coochie cat again already?" she murmured, still focused on the stove.
I chuckled against her ear. "Maybe. You the one walking around in this lil' ass dress, cookin' for me, hummin' like you happy as hell." She paused for half a second, then muttered, "Maybe I am." I stilled. Then, slowly, I smirked. That was new. She wasn't the type to just admit shit like that. I turned her around, making her face me, her body still pressed against the counter. Her big brown eyes looked up at me, her expression unreadable, but I saw the truth there. Saw everything she wasn't saying. I ran my thumb over her bottom lip, my voice dropping. "Say that shit again."
She blinked, her teeth sinking into her lip, but she ain't look away. "...Maybe I am happy." My chest tightened, something unfamiliar settling in my stomach. I pressed my lips to her forehead, keeping her close. "Good." Because I'd be damned if she ever had a reason not to be.
My phone rang, cutting through the moment, vibrating against my pocket. I let out a slow breath, pulling it out to check the screen. Ma. I sighed, pressing ignore, setting the phone on the counter like I hadn't just dodged that call for the third time this week. Chiana looked up from the stove, side-eyeing me but not saying nothing. I already knew what it was about. I'd been avoiding Sunday dinners, keeping my distance. I was sure by now Ma knew about me and Chiana—and I also knew she probably wasn't happy about it.
Not because she had a problem with me being with somebody. Nah, that wasn't it. She had a problem with who I was with. She thought relationships weren't good for me after what happened with Troi. And after the first night she met Chiana, When she came to the family party in that black dress looking like a damn dream and a problem at the same time. Yeah. She had made up her mind. I could tell by the way she pursed her lips, by the way she gave Chiana that once-over like she was deciding if she was worthy of being in the room.
Pops had already warned me last week. "Your Ma in her feelings about this shit, boy. She think you ain't thinking straight. Don't be surprised when she start blowin’ you up and poppin’ up on you."
And he wasn't wrong. Because my phone rang again. I silenced it again, running a hand down my face. Chiana turned around, sitting a plate of bacon, eggs, cheese grits, and toast in front of me before leaning against the counter across from me.
"You need to get that?" Her voice was smooth, unreadable. But I could see it in her eyes—she knew who was calling. I shook my head, picking up a fork. "Nah." She hummed, crossing her arms. "That your mama?"
I exhaled. "Yeah." She nodded, not pressing, just watching me as I started eating. But I could tell she was thinking something. And when Chiana was thinking, it usually meant she was about to say some shit. So, I gave her a look. "Go ahead and say whatever the hell on your mind."
She smirked slightly, tilting her head. "I mean... you duckin' your mama now?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "Man, I ain't duckin' her." She lifted a brow. "You just declined her call twice." I smirked, leaning back. "Yeah, well. She bein' dramatic."
Chiana didn't respond immediately, just held my gaze, that sharp mind of hers working through everything at once. Then she exhaled, pushing off the counter. "She don't like me, huh?" I clenched my jaw slightly. "It ain't even about that." She gave me a look. "So she don't."
I sighed, setting my fork down. "It's just how she is, baeeby. You walked in that night, lookin' like you did, had every nigga in the room wantin' to risk it all—of course she wasn't gon' be feelin' that shit." Chiana scoffed, shaking her head. "So because I look good, she don't like me?"
I chuckled, standing up, stepping closer to her. "It's deeper than that." She didn't move, just crossed her arms tighter. "Explain it to me then."
I sighed, rubbing my chin. "She think relationships make me weak. After what happened with my ex, she think I ain't got no business trusting nobody. And she think you..." I trailed off, knowing whatever I said next was about to piss her off. Her brows lifted. "Go 'head, say it." I ran a hand down my face. "She think you got too much attitude for your own good."
Chiana grinned, but I could tell she was irritated. "Oh, that's cute. She think I got attitude? She don’t even know me yet." I smirked, stepping even closer, my hands sliding to her hips, gripping low. "I told you it wasn't about you." She rolled her eyes, trying to act like my hands on her body wasn't distracting her. "But it is about me, Juste. Because I'm the one you with." I nodded, my thumbs rubbing slow circles against her hips. "And that ain't gon' change. So she gon' have to deal with it."
Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching, but she masked it quick. I smirked, knowing I was getting to her. I lifted her up, sitting her on the counter, stepping in between her legs. My hands rested on her bare thighs, my grip firm, my voice low. "You worried?" I murmured.
She sucked her teeth, rolling her eyes like the thought was ridiculous. "Please." I smirked, knowing she was frontin', but I let her have it. Instead, I leaned in, my lips brushing against the soft curve of her neck, trailing down in between her titties, letting my mouth linger just enough to feel her breath.
Her hands gripped my shoulders as I slid my hands up her thighs, pushing her dress up around her hips, getting ready to— A throat cleared. Loudly and I froze. Chiana did too, snatching the straps of her gown back up onto her shoulders so fast I almost laughed. Almost. Because when we turned toward the doorway... My mama was standing there. Arms crossed. Face frowned up. And I hadn't even heard her ass come in the house.
"This why your funky ass been ignoring my calls?" I let out a slow breath, rubbing my hand over my low cut, already bracing myself. Chiana shifted on the counter, looking like she was about to hop down, but I tightened my grip on her thighs, holding her in place. I exhaled. "Ma, I'm not ignoring you. I was about to call you back."
She scoffed. "Oh yeah? Looked like your ass was too busy to call anybody back." Chiana stared at me blankly, but she didn’t say nothing. I could tell she wanted to, though. And my mama peeped it. Mama cut her eyes at her, looking her up and down before shaking her head. "Mmhmm. so you the one huh ? I thought you said you were the accountant ?"
Chiana straightened her spine, lifting her chin slightly, her eyes sharper now. Oh, she was on go. I squeezed her thighs, silently telling her to chill before I turned back to my mama. "Ma, don't start."
She ignored me, walking further inside like she was getting comfortable. "Boy, I done birthed you. You don't tell me when to start or stop a damn thing." I ran a hand over my face, sighing. Here we go. Chiana smirked slightly, like she was amused, but she still didn’t say nothing. Yet, Mama leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "So you mean to tell me, you got this girl all up in the business and in your damn bed?"
I shrugged. "She doin' the books. That's it."
Mama squinted. "That's it? That's all?" Before I could answer, Chiana beat me to it. She tilted her head, voice smooth. "Well, I'm also cooking breakfast. And keeping the books clean. And living in his house. And, y'know..." she dragged the words out before flashing a slow smirk, "making sure he stay stress-free."
I chuckled. Mama was frowning so hard I thought her face might get stuck. "Oh, so you got jokes?" Mama narrowed her eyes. Chiana lifted a shoulder. "I got personality." I squeezed her thighs harder, smirking at the way Mama's eyes damn near twitched. "She real comfortable." Mama mumbled.
"She supposed to be." I responded, My voice was firm, final. Mama stared at me for a long second, lips pressed tight, like she was debating on whether she wanted to argue or let the shit go. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. "Believe me, this is not the last time we speaking about this."
I held back a chuckle. Of course, it wasn't. Mama wasn't the type to let shit ride, not when it came to me and my choices. She adjusted her purse, then slid her sunglasses down over her eyes before turning to walk toward the door. "I expect to see you tomorrow at Sunday dinner. Don't make me have to mention it twice." I smirked but didn't say nothing. She was halfway out the door when she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Feel free to bring company if that's what you need to be present."
Then, just like that, she was gone. The second the door closed behind her, I turned my attention back to Chiana, my grip still firm on her thighs. She was staring at the door, still tight from the interaction, but when I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers, I felt the way her body softened, just a little. I pulled back slightly, my lips hovering over hers as I smirked. "I can't have you talkin' shit to my mama, man."
I let out a low laugh, trying to thin the air, ease the tension. She rolled her eyes, her lips curving slightly. "Your mama was talkin' shit to me first." I grinned. "That's what she do."
