I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded my head. Then he had to fuck up the moment and ask the hoodest hood nigga question of them all. “You gonna come kick it with a nigga?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I looked at him in confusion.
“You are, but yo’ pretty ass is all the way over here. What if I want you near me where the action is?”
I chuckled and looked around, before my eyes landed back on him. “How about you enjoy your party and find me later on? That way you can entertain your people without having to keep me company.”
He smiled. “That's a promise.”
“What?”
“That you ain’t gonna sneak up outta here and have me ringing my cousin up to find you.”
I nodded my head. “I’ll be here.” I was lying my ass off. I had already told myself that I was getting out of here within the next two hours. It was nothing against him, but everything against him.
He nodded his head and gave me one last look, before he swaggered away toward the group of men rolling dice.Typical hood nigga shit.
“No, really. What’s up with you? You should’ve been hanging off that nigga.” The way she spoke you wouldn’t believe this nigga was her blood cousin.
I shook my head. “Nothing, I just want to have a good time and find my bed in the next few hours.” I shrugged.
“Aye.” I heard a familiar voice fill the air.
I ignored it the first time, but the second time I couldn’t because obviously whoever it was had to be talking to myself or Bobby.
When I looked up, I locked eyes with none other than Namari. I just knewMr. Ghost A Bitchwasn’t talking to me. He had to be talking to Bobby. In pure pettiness I looked around making sure to act like I didn’t see his weird ass.
“I know you see me fucking calling you, Surah. Come the fuck here.”
“How do you know Namari?” Bobby asked.
“Long story. I’ll be right back though.”
“Tuh hell. Those niggas get money, I’m going over there with yo—.” Before she could finish her sentence, her mother was calling her. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and immediately went to see what Ms. Jackson wanted.
I chuckled, before walking over to where Namari stood. I wasn’t studding him, but I also knew he was ignorant, so he’d show his ass before he let me ignore him.
“Fuck you doing out here?” He grabbed the loop of my jean shorts and pulled me into him.
“Minding mine. The fuck is you doing out here?” I asked in the same tone that he used. I hated niggas that thought they could go missing and come back to the same treatment. Namari had the wrong bitch at the right time.
He laughed, then looked down at me. “You look good, wife.”
“Wife?” Some nigga with a big head asked in confusion. His eyes were trained on Namari.
“Yeah, nigga did I stutter?”
I laughed. Here he was with this wife shit fucking up any action that I could’ve gotten. I didn’t want any, but he didn’t know that and apparently, he didn’t give a shit.
The two guys standing next him started laughing while he focused on me.
“You still ain’t thoroughly answered my question.” He said that part lowly like he didn’t want anybody to hear him.
I laughed. “What do you want, Namari?”
“I’on even like that. Call me husband. It has a better ring than you pronouncing all the syllables in my name.” Again, he was speaking low, but he had me cornered between him and his truck.
“I’ma call you what fits. I should be calling your ass Casper.”
