She didn’t stop, despite her mom and sister calling after her. When she got into her car, her phone she’d forgotten in the cup holder vibrated. She ignored it so she could pull out of the driveway and get a safe distance away from her childhood home. Her phone kept going crazy, so she finally picked it up to see missed calls and a text from Boogie.
Boogie: Where the fuck are you?
Sweetie frowned as she tapped out a response at a red light. Her attitude was bad, and she didn’t like the way he asked his question.
Sweetie: On the way to work… that cool with you?
“The fuck is his problem?” she muttered as she tossed her phone into the cupholder. Her only mission at the moment was getting her mind right for work. That would be hard, though, because the realization that she may never see her granny again hit her right in the chest.
The only thing Boogie hoped for the night was that he didn’t need to fuck someone up because he was in a bad mood. Sweetie not answering his calls or texts pissed him off, only because he was terrified that, deep down, she was trying to run from him. That thought made him crazy. He wasn’t possessive, normally, but Sweetie pulled a lot of emotions out of him and reached a place in his heart that had never been explored before. He didn’t know how to deal with all these big feelings, and it made him come across as an asshole. That was the last thing he wanted because he didn’t want to run her off, so as he stepped into The Honey Pot, he did his best to get his emotions under control.
The space was smoky, dark, and loud. His mood threatened to take another dive just from the atmosphere alone, but he held it together and moved through the space. Boogie had to dodge greedy ass strippers who wanted to give him a dance and drunkniggas who needed to be in a damn retirement home and not there, but he finally spotted Sweetie.
She looked like she was getting ready to go on stage. He had to admit she looked damn good, but even from several feet away, he could tell something was bothering her. Her pretty face looked like it was etched in a permanent frown, and that wasn’t like her. Even though life hadn’t been that great to her, she seemed to keep a smile on her face. Something changed that, and suddenly, his mission to find her and talk about why she left the house turned into him wanting to figure out who put that frown on her face.
Before he could reach her, a dusty nigga approached her and said something that made her frown deepen. Fresh irritation spiked within Boogie. When he reached them, he inserted himself between the man and Sweetie, completely ignoring the dust bunny.
“What’s wrong?” Boogie asked. He grabbed her chin and turned her face to inspect it. Her eyes were swollen.
She looked confused by the question, as if she didn’t understand how connected they were. When something was wrong with her, she wouldn’t be able to hide it from him.
Before she could respond, the dust bunny tapped on Boogie’s shoulder. “Aye, my man, I was talkin’ to the lady.”
Boogie’s face hardened as he turned slowly to look at the man who was a head shorter than him. “You was talkin’ tomylady. Scram.” Boogie must have put the fear of God in him because the dusty man stumbled away before catching himself and rushing off. Boogie watched him disappear before he turned back to Sweetie and asked his question again. “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms over her barely covered chest and looked up at him with her face scrunched up like she had every reason to be annoyed and not him.
“Nah, baby, what areyoudoin’ here?”
She waved her hands down her body in exasperation. “Working, Boogie. What’s the problem?”
Boogie blinked down at her as he processed her question. What was the problem? He knew what Sweetie did for a living. He just thought she knew she didn’t have to strip anymore. She had him now. Then he realized that she wasn’t built like that. She went on and on last night about how stifling it had been living with her pops and how he used his money to control her. The last thing Boogie wanted was to act like Vernon Bishop.
He sighed and ran his hand down her face as he realized he had been acting like a maniac. The thought of her leaving him had him scared, but he couldn’t lie . . . The thought of her grinding that big ass and sweet ass pussy on another nigga for a dollar was what had him hot.
“It ain’t no problem. I’m sorry I pulled up on you like this. I thought you left . . . for good,” he finally said.
She took a step back and frowned. “Left for good? Why would you think that?”
“Thought you might have got scared. Left you alone for a little while and you had time to think . . . thought you might have dipped.”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t do you like that.”
“You tried to do me exactly like that this morning, ain’t you?” Boogie asked with a lopsided smile, though the thought caused his heart literal pain.
She looked down at her tall ass heels. “I guess you’re right, but that was before.”
“Before what?”
“Before we connected.”
He grinned and pulled her into him by her waist. “You sayin’ I dicked you down so good you ain’t gon’ leave me?”
There was that laugh he loved. She tilted her head back, and her smile showed off all her pretty white teeth. “Yeah, I guess.”
He kissed her cheek. “Aight, I’m sorry. I got tight thinkin’ you was tryina run from me, so I acted out. My bad. You think you can take the night off though? I feel like we need to talk about what we’re doin’ and what shit needs to look like goin’ forward.”
Sweetie glanced at the stage where another woman twirled around a pole before her eyes landed back on him. “Let me just go talk to my boss. Stay right here. I’ll be back.”
