My phone buzzed on the table and I ain’t even have to look to know who it was. I smiled before I picked it up.
It was my ol’ lady, Renaissance, better known as Reni.
We was eight months deep and not a single soul outside her circle knew about us. It wasn’t ‘cause I was ashamed or hidin’ her, but ‘cause I protect what matter to me, and I wasn’t tryna have my shit touched by opinions that don’t pay no bills.
I glanced at the screen and read her message.
Where you at?
I typed back quick.At the crib. On my way.
Three dots popped up immediately.
You said that an hour ago.
I chuckled under my breath and shook my head. She always had a lil’ attitude tucked away for me, and I loved that shit more than I should.
Relax, Big Mama,I typed.I’m slidin’ now. On the way formal.
Pressure peeped the grin on my face and raised an eyebrow. “You movin’ real secretive lately.”
I looked up slow and smirked. “I ain’t movin’ secretive. I’m mindin’ my business. Try it sometime, nigga.”
Kay’Lo laughed once and took a drink. Pressure shook his head like he knew better than to push it.
Truth was, Reni was solid as hell. I met her at a club months back when me and Blaqson was out just vibin’. She wasn’t thirsty, wasn’t pressed and wasn’t throwin’ herself at nobody. She was sittin’ back, laughin’ with her friends, thick as hell with that quiet confidence that made a nigga curious.
She had her own everything and drove a Benz coupe, black with white interior, clean as hell. She lived in a luxury spot by the water with floor-to-ceiling windows and a view that made you breathe different when you woke up. She owned a beauty supply chain, had her hands in real estate, and was part owner of a hookah lounge that stayed booked out, on some real boss shit.
And her body? Man!
She wasn’t no skinny girl. Reni had meat on her bones the way God intended. She had thighs that rubbed together when she walked, hips that filled a nigga hands right, and arms with just enough jiggle that made me wanna grab ‘em for no reason. She had a fupa I loved to lay my palm on like it was mine, and green eyes that looked crazy against her skin.
What made Reni different though, and what really had me locked in with her, wasn’t just how she looked or how she carried herself when we stepped out. It was the way she showed up for me without me ever havin’ to ask. Shorty always made sure I was straight, and I don’t mean just in the obvious ways. If I said I was pullin’ up, she already had shit set up. Food hot, drinks poured, a blunt rolled, music low and lights just right. I could come in there quiet as hell and she would peep that shit instantly. She wouldn’t ask no dumb ass questions, wouldn’t poke at me, but just let me breathe and be me.
She rode a nigga back every time too. Not on some clingy shit, but consistent shit. If I texted her, she texted back. If I called, she answered. Wasn’t no days goin’ by where I was wonderin’ what the fuck she was on or who she was entertainin’.That alone meant more to me than she probably even realized. In my world, consistency is love, and Reni was solid in that shit.
When I slid over there, I ain’t never have to worry about shit feelin’ off. She wasn’t pressin’ me about where I been or who I was with. She trusted me, even when her attitude tried to tell a different story sometimes. And I respected that, ‘cause trust wasn’t easy to give when you was dealin’ with a nigga like me. She let me be a man without tryna shrink herself or compete with my life, and at the same time she stood firm in who she was.
Reni ain’t need me, but she chose me, and that shit hit different. She had her own money, her own schedule, her own shit goin’ on, but still made space for me in a way that felt intentional. She checked on me when I was busy. She prayed for me without makin’ it weird. She made sure I ate. Made sure I rested. She sure I laughed, and when I was movin’ quiet or distant, she ain’t take it personal right away. She gave me room, then reeled me back in smooth.
That’s why when she be trippin’ talkin’ about I’m hidin’ her, it don’t even be comin’ from insecurity like people would think. It be comin’ from her feelin’ me too hard and wantin’ to be claimed out loud. And I get it. I really do. I just move different when it come to shit I actually care about. I protect first, and I explain later.
So yeah, she thick, fine, got green eyes that’ll stop a nigga mid-sentence, and a body I love every inch of, but more than that, she down for me in a way that ain’t loud, messy or conditional. She was my peace, and that’s why I ain’t play about her.
That’s why I was slidin’ to her crib smilin’ to myself, already knowin’ soon as I walked through that door, I was gon’ be exactly where I needed to be.
I told Pressure I had to slide, took one more sip of my drink, and grabbed my keys before they could say shit else.
Soon as I stepped outside, the night air hit different. I got in my black two-seater, matte finish with the chocolate interior, that real nigga luxury shit, and pulled off smooth.
On the way to Reni place, I called her.
She answered on the second ring. “What?”
I laughed. “Damn, you answer the phone like you big mad.”
“‘Cause you be playin’ with me,” she said. “You always on your way.”
