Coast almost choked on her second bite. He was dead ass, which made it even funnier.
“You’re delusional as hell. You know that?” She grabbed her fork and scooped potato salad onto it.
“You like me, though,” Mozzi stated with confidence.
“Like a stray dog,” Coast replied, making him fall over holding his stomach in laughter.
“You think you funny? Like I can’t smell all those pheromones you releasing.” Mozzi admired her thighs, all meaty and moisturized.
“Oh, my God! Who says shit like that?” she asked, eyes growing three sizes when she swallowed her food.
“You didn’t think a nigga was smart like that, did you?”
“Spell it,” she challenged with a cute grin.
“Mozzi, what the hell is this?” Roni had enough of being ignored and him playing in her face. “I thought you said you didn’t know her.”
“Baby brother.” Moose came over to help wrangle him in before he ended up in some shit he couldn’t talk his way out of, not that he would try.
He typically didn’t care what a motherfucker thought. That was just Mozzi. He came up as the underdog but never let it defeat him. He was typically up for any challenge.
“Time to warm up.” He’d caught Mozzi sliding up on Coast as soon as she hit the Junction booth.
Standing on the sidelines, talking to the refs, Coast caught his eye, and Moose had never seen the nigga move so fast. He pushed through the crowd and sea of women already vying for his attention, acting like he hadn’t just hopped in her whip and caught a ride over here.
“Moose, this my girl, Coast.”
Again, she almost spit her food out. She didn’t realize he knew her name. Moose chortled, slapped his brother on the shoulder, and rested his hand there.
“Oh, yo’ girl? Didn’t you just meet her?” Moose questioned.
“And you already throwing titles around?” Roni demanded.
“I’m going to head back over to my table.” Coast turned on her heel.
“Make sure you grab some water! It’s hot out here!” Mozzi yelled after her.
Coast flipped him the bird, sauntering away with a little extra sway in her walk just for him. She knew he was watching. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he shook his head. He was fucking with everything about Coast. She thought he was playing games, so he knew he had to show her. She wasn’t one of those women about to take a damn thing he said at face value. He fucked with that.
“I’mma marry her.”
“Nigga, please! What about her baby daddy?” Moose challenged.
“Muhfucka might as well just consider himself a sperm donor.” Mozzi voiced.
“You can’t even commit to a favorite fucking pair of shoes.” Moose sniggered and tossed his arm over his shoulder. “Let’s go, so we can beat these West side niggas’ ass,” he encouraged, dragging him away before Roni had a chance to grill him about what had happened.
He caught that fiery glint in her stare and knew Mozzi would flip on her if she tried to get all territorial. She was already sharing him with Gillian and Lin. She’d be damned if she let some basic hoe like Coast step into the picture.
Mozzi was a lot of things, and he loved women. He dabbled in all kinds of pussy, regularly. When he stepped to women, only one thing was on his mind. Getting to know them meant attachments, and he’d formed those with his top three, so he didn’t feel it was needed anywhere else. Each of them provided something that the other didn’t, creating the perfect woman. Coast had a vibe that discontinued all of ’em. He wanted to soak that up, and nobody was going to keep him from it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THIS IS HOW WE ROLL
By the time Coast arrived back at the table with Bee, she was joined by Inari and the brown skinned girl she’d seen with Mozzi’s brother earlier in the parking lot. She’d demolished all her potato salad and was working on the baked beans and her second rib. Inari lifted her head, which was shielded by the snapback with Vintage Vault’s logo on the front. She’d changed into completely casual attire since Coast had last seen her.
“Hey!” Inari greeted her with a smile when she approached. “We were just talking about you.”
