“You believe that shit, cuz?” asked O. He grunted. “You got crazy faith in buddy.”
“Because he Drake,” Rahmir said, matter of factly. “All he gotta do is get back to his roots.”
“He won’t though. Once a nigga’s confidence is fucked with, it’s done for. All a muthafucka got is their confidence. You strip ‘em of that, it’s done for,” said Judah.
Titan sucked his teeth. “Just watch. I don’t want to hear you bumpin’ none of his shit when it comes out either, fool.”
About twenty minutes later, I was posted up with my niggas. Drake and Future’s Jumpman was blasting from the speakers and had started a whole ass debate about the beef between him and Kendrick. I would have given my opinion on it if it weren’t for my attention being elsewhere. It was on Mahogany. Where else would it have been? She was in the room with me, wasn’t she? Pulling on my energy and shit. Her spirit was calling out to me, as it always was. But I was planted—refusing to give in to the urge to walk back over to the bar. The most I’d been able to do was watch her. With a heavy beating heart. I was resisting like a muthafucka. And resisting didn’t feel good. It honestly made me sick to my stomach. I wanted her so bad.
I looked away from her, cleared my throat, and caught Judah’s eye. He looked over in Mahogany’s direction, put his eyes back on me, and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
He turned his cup up to his mouth and stood next to me. “What you waiting for?”
“Fuck you talking about?”
“The obvious, nigga,” said Orion. “You been standing here, quiet as hell for twenty minutes, eyeing Ms. Couture Interiors. You on shorty ass like back pockets.”
Rahmir snorted. “Hell yeah he is. Stuck too, like Reign ain’t in the building.”
“Fuck Reign being here gotta do with anything?”
Rahmir smirked with a squint. “So, you on shorty ass like back pockets, hm?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Mind your business, nigga.”
“I just don’t see why you won’t just go over there, bro,” said Judah.
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. I didn’t owe any of these niggas an explanation about shit. Neither of them knew what I’d been through, dealing with her ass. She was too complicated. Too confused. Too wishy-washy. While at the same time, tooMahogany. Alluring. Mesmerizing. Thirst-quenching. Addictive. You know how deadly of a combination that was? Walking back over to her, telling her all of the things that sat at the tip of my tongue was a risk I didn’t want to take. A risk I couldn’t take. I was, honestly, no funny shit, afraid to put myself out there again.
As I stared at her, I thought about the possibility of us. The contract was finished. We could do more. We couldbemore. But then… I’d think about the back and forth and chill although I could feel her wanting to talk to me just as bad as I wanted to talk to her. In fact, she wanted more than conversation. She wanted my hands on her. She wanted my lips on her. She wanted me. And while I wanted her too… the risk was too grand.
I wasn’t in the mood to put my heart into something just for her to hit me with some other shit a couple of days later. I mean, like I said, the contract was done, but the contract wasn’t the only thing standing in the way of us. She had shit. She had a lot of shit.
It had been months since we had that uncomfortable conversation… something could have changed but what if they hadn’t? What if I put myself out there and she shot me down again? I didn’t want to be rejected by her. I couldn’t handle that shit, for real. I might’ve sounded like a bitch but if there was onething that Judah said that made since about the whole Drake, Kendrick conversation, it was the statement about confidence.
Yeah, my shit was bruised. The confidence I had about us, stripped away. In the past, I just knew she’d be mine. I was confident as hell about that. But time proved otherwise. The way she handled me, proved otherwise. As a nigga who was used to getting what he wanted, that didn’t sit well with me.
As usual, something pulled my attention in her direction and I saw her stand. She finished her drink, grabbed her purse, said a few things to Tamia, slid her coat on, and turned around. Our eyes met and I felt another tug in her direction. She turned the corners of her mouth up, ran her hand over the back of her neck, and looked away. I could tell by her body language that she was getting ready to head out.
My heart rate picked up and something in my spirit shouted ‘Go’. I felt this overwhelming urge to walk over to her. This overwhelming urge to stop her. But I did nothing. Instead of heading in her direction, I walked away from my niggas and sat at the table we were standing at. They were talking. Most likely about me and the way I was staring at Mahogany, but I couldn’t really hear them. Not over the sound of my racing heart and my intuition literally begging me to get up and follow her out of the venue.
My eyes followed her, as she made her way through the crowd. She got lost a couple of times, but I found her again. She was leaving without saying goodbye. See what I’m saying? Why couldn’t she had come over here? I didn’t have time for that shit.But something told me to bypass all of it. Something said, ‘so what’. Something told me to chase her. This overwhelming feeling of dread washed over me when she made it to the door and I was forced to my feet, in a panic, my body having a mind of its own.
Before I knew it, I was heading for the exit. Something told me that if I let her leave without speaking my piece, I wouldn’t see her again. That door would shut permanently, and I wouldn’t get another opportunity.
“Fuck you goin nigga?!” yelled Rahmir, laughing.
“On her ass like back pockets, like you said, bro,” Judah said.
I paid them niggas dust as I made my way through the crowd. My little cousins tried to stop me again, but I brushed by them. Luna asked where I was going too, but I ignored her. Right before I made it to the door, Reign appeared in front of me.
With dipped brows, she eyed me up and down. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you just?—
“I’m cool. Excuse me,” I said, pushing her aside.
“Crescent,” she called out.
