“Gah mothafuckin’ damn,” Boogie said, hugging her into him. “Yeah, Sweetie. You mine. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”
She giggled. “Pussy that powerful?”
She looked up at him, and he peered down at her like she just asked the stupidest question. Instead of responding to her, he said, “You gon’ come live wit’ me.”
“Wait, what? Live with you? Boogie—” Sweetie tried to sit up so she could argue, but Boogie mushed her head back down into his chest.
“Baby, you just sucked all the nut and energy up out of me. I ain’t goin’ back and forth wit’ you no more.”
Sweetie shook her head but settled down. Boogie had always been hardheaded, and he always got what he wanted.
Her thoughts drifted to the stress she’d endured over the past year, trying to make ends meet and worrying about her next meal or where she would lay her head at night.
In the matter of a few hours, Boogie had managed to give her the security she had been chasing for a long time now. She decided to settle into it . . . for now. The thought of their fathers still lingered, and she just prayed shit didn’t get messy because she decided to settle into security instead of fleeing.
Antsy.That was how Boogie felt ever since he left Sweetie at his place earlier that afternoon. After sampling that good ass pussy of hers that morning, all he wanted to do was lay in it.
Instead, his family kept calling him back to back to remind him of Sunday dinner. He knew there was no way he could get out of going to his parents’ house. Tandy DeLuca didn’t play that shit. It didn’t matter how old her sons got.
So, he got Sweetie situated at his home and left to hit a lick with his brother real quick before they went to their parents. Denzel, the pussy-whipped ass nigga he was, just had to make a pit stop at NellanNem’s corner store so he could get Chloe a sandwich from the deli.
“This shit don’t make no sense. We ’bout to get some good home cookin’ from Mama. Why do Chloe need a roast beef sandwich from here for?” Boogie grumbled as he watched the store owner, Habib, make the sandwich. Only reason the oldman was behind the counter making the shit was because Denzel slipped him a fifty-dollar bill to do it himself. Everyone knew Habib made the best sandwiches.
“Because my wife wanted the shit, so she gon’ get it,” Denzel said as coolly as a cucumber.
“And don’t diss my sandwiches like that, young boy. You know ya mama’s cookin’ ain’t got shit on my skills,” Habib joked with his thick accent as he looked at Boogie from behind his glasses. He added horseradish sauce onto the toasted bread as he grinned.
“Shiiiiit.” Boogie dragged the word out dramatically.
“You a mothafuckin lie.” Denzel agreed with his brother. Habib was a legend in the hood, but Tandy DeLuca held the torch for best food. Even Habib knew that. He’d sampled her food through the years during cookouts and whatnot and fell under her spell just like everyone else.
“Yeah, aight. See if I finish this sandwich,” Habib said as he halted his movements and peered playfully at the brothers.
“Aw, come on, man. I’ll slide you another twenty,” Denzel begged as he pulled out another bill from his pocket.
Habib, motivated by money since he was young, nodded and continued building the sandwich. “Leave it on the counter up front.”
Boogie chuckled as Denzel turned and walked through the store toward the front.
“Ol’ whipped ass nigga,” Boogie muttered.
For an old man, Habib had excellent hearing. “You’d do some good to find a woman like your brother has. ’Bout time for you to settle down.”
“What you know about settling down, Habib? Don’t you got like six baby mamas?”
Habib stuck his middle finger up at Boogie after he cut the sandwich and threw it in the bag. “Learn from my mistakes, young boy.”
He handed Boogie the bag and walked around the counter slowly. Habib was from Palestine but came here when he was young. From there, the hustle was on. He opened up this store when he was in his early twenties, and it had been a staple in The Bay ever since. Boogie had been coming to this store with his parents since he was little, so Habib really was like extended family for him.
When they got to the front of the store, Boogie handed Denzel the bag.
“Good lookin’, Habib,” Denzel said as he threw his hand up in salute.
“Where the fuck you think you goin’? You ain’t paid yet, young boy,” Habib snapped with a frown on his face as he went behind the glass where the cash register was.
Denzel halted and Boogie chuckled. “Fuck you mean, Bib? I just gave you seventy dollars for this damn sandwich.”
“Yeah, that was for me to make it. That ain’t cover the cost of the damn sandwich,” Habib said as he sat in his chair behind the counter and propped his feet up. He nudged his employee next to him. “Charge him for a roast beef deluxe.”
