Climbing back in the car, I headed straight forTony’s Subs.A chopped cheese was calling my name. Once I grabbed my food, I hit up this nigga Melz.
Melz texted back quickly, telling me to slide through. By the time I finally pulled up to his apartment full as fuck, his ass was already in full gaming mode. Controller clicking, 2K trash talk flying across the room, smoke hanging thick in the air, and a bottle of Remy posted on the table.
Melz didn’t even look away from the screen when he said, “Grab a controller, nigga. I’m ’bout to take all thatQuickieDropbread.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, aight.” I grabbed a controller, cracked my bottle open, and dropped onto the couch. “What’s good, nigga? Yo’ shorty still on bullshit or y’all doin’ somethin’ tomorrow?”
“Bro,” he looked at me with that same look he gave when his girl was on bullshit. “She talkin’ ‘bout she on her period. I know her ass lyin’. She gon’ fuck around and find out.”
Laughing as I took a gulp of Remy, I shook my head. “Y’all stay on some toxic shit.”
“Nigga, don’t act all brand new just ‘cause you and Vee ain’t together no more. Y’all muthafuckas was more toxic than Bobby and Whitney.”
“Minus them fuckin’ drugs.” We laughed, and I took another swig of Remy before the game started. “I ain’t trippin’ off Vonnae.”
“Yeah, that ol’ lady got yo’ mind gone. Y’all linkin’ up again?”
“Yup. Tomorrow night.”
“Youlikeher ass,” he said, watching me.
“I ain’t gon’ say it’s that deep yet,” I muttered. “But it could be.”
By nine, my ass was back in the whip lit, sparking up a blunt. I ran the Bluetooth, pulled up a new playlist I made, and started queuing up some joints. Blxst, Chris Brown, Yung Bleu, and some old school rap, too. I was mid-scroll when my phone buzzed with an alert from theQuickieDrop app.
I tapped the notification and scanned the details, which showed wine and Kit Kats. The request was from a woman named Kendra.
I raised a brow at that odd ass combo, but shit, money was money. I wasn’t here to judge, just deliver. “Aight, Miss Kendra,” I muttered, cranking the engine. My night was officially in motion. Before pulling off, I sent Taelyn a quick text.
Yung Bleu was humming through the speakers, something mellow with just enough knock. Traffic wasn’t too bad, even with snow coming down. I rode with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh with the blunt between my fingers.
A few lights blurred past before I pulled into the convenience store parking lot. I tossed the roach in the ashtray and headed inside, the scent of cheap incense and fried food greeting me at the door.
It didn’t take long to find the bottle of red and Kit Kats. I grabbed both and walked up to the counter. Two women wereahead of me, all giggling and shit, and throwing glances over their shoulders like they had something to offer. One of them looked me dead in the face, lips glossed, eyes heavy.
“Hey,” she said with a slow smirk, brushing her braids off her shoulder.
I didn’t even blink her way. I just nodded once and looked past them like they weren’t even there. Once I paid, I dipped back to the car, dropped the bag on the passenger seat, and pulled out my phone to double-check the delivery address. It was a hotel right around the corner.
“Here we go,” I said to myself as I drove that way. The hotel wasn’t anything fancy, but it was clean enough. The front desk clerk was already watching me when I walked in. I approached the desk, lifting the bag a little. “QuickieDrop,” I said. “Got a delivery.”
“Room number?” He asked, already reaching for his tablet. I showed him the app screen with the customer details. He gave a quick nod and typed something in before looking back up at me. “Elevator to the left. Room 414.”
I headed to the elevator, swiping through my phone while I rode up. Taelyn still hadn’t replied to my selfie yet. I figured she was probably trying to be good and trying not to fold. Either way, I knew I’d be in her dreams tonight. The elevator dinged, and I stepped out, walking down the hall until I reached 414. I knocked twice, then the door cracked open slowly, and my high was instantly blown.
Vonnae stood there in some pink lace lingerie, as if it was supposed to mean something. Her eyes all soft and shiny, lipspainted and plump, body lotioned up, smelling like she just sprayed the Chanel perfume I bought her back when we were good.
“Hey, baby,” she said, leaning against the doorframe like a damn trap. “Please don’t be mad. I just… I needed to see you. I knew this was the only way.”
I clenched my jaw. “You made a fakeQuickieDropaccount… just to get me to come here?” She nodded slowly, stepping back to let me see the room set up with candles, soft music playing low, and two wine glasses already waiting. “Yo’ ass is sick,” I muttered, stepping back from the door.
“Ahmad, come on. You ain’t even gotta say anything right now. Just come inside. Let’s bring in Valentine’s Day together and make up.”
My stare didn’t move. I was annoyed as fuck that her ass wasted my time with this bullshit. “Vee, we done,” I said, voice low and sharp. “Yo’ ass don’t know how to let shit go. This ain’t cute. This is some obsessive shit.”
She moved closer, hand grazing my chest like that was gonna change anything. “But I miss you. Just come in and fuck me like you used to.”
“Nah, I’m straight,” I said, stepping back again, shoving the bag at her. “Enjoy yo’ Valentine’s Day. I know I will.”
