I knew the turnout was going to be big because we had always been popular in our community. While I liked to be low-key, Tray was my opposite. This nigga loved a good turnup. My moms, pops, and Tray’s moms, Vicki, cooked all the food, and Sheena, of course, was in charge of the decorations and guest list. Sis did her big one, as always, and had the house looking like something out of an event planner magazine. There were a lot of balloons, streamers, banners, and pictures with his favorite colors, blue and black. I made sure to hire a thorough security team to keep shit in decent order.
People I hadn’t seen since high school were even in attendance, and a few high rollers that I knew were in themillion-dollar club. Strippers littered the house with poles on the top floor for entertainment.
It was a little after seven as I sat in one of the chairs surrounding the pool, kicking it with my brother and Tray’s cousin, Jalen. I was on my fifth glass of Don Julio 1942, feeling nice and vibing to the music. I couldn’t count how many times I checked my phone since last night, waiting to get an angry text from Alicia, but it never came.
I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to her, but I stopped myself because I felt like she deserved it for trying to play me in front of her whack-ass ex. She knew how much I was feeling her, but she constantly pushed me away, when all I wanted to do was love on her.
The irony that I was falling in love with my boss was blowing me, to be honest. It took me almost six months to fall in love with Nyami, and that was because she practically forced herself on me. With Alicia, shit just came natural. I never thought of myself being with a MILF, but I guess it only made sense since I loved kids.
Alicia was perfect to me. Too bad she couldn’t see that shit for herself.
Basil, fuck her. She played you, I thought as my finger hovered over her name. I was too buzzed for this shit.
She had me ready to pull up on her ass.
“You been staring at that phone all damn night. You expecting somebody to call, Bro?” Bilal asked.
I am.
“Why you in my business?” I slightly slurred.
Jalen laughed. “Because all this ass floating around here, and you in your phone like you lost your best friend and shit. We been here for three hours, and you been turning down ass like you scared of it.”
“What’s going on, Bro?” Lal asked, staring at me like he was trying to see through me.
“You ever liked somebody so much that they’re always in every corner of your mind? Even when you try not to like they ass?” I asked, staring down into my glass as if I was talking to the liquor instead of my brother.
“Ya ass fell in love with her, didn’t you?” he asked with a smirk resting on his lips.
“Man . . .” I groaned, swiping my hand down my face. “Fuck her. Where Diamond at?” I looked around for Sheena’s best friend. Her ass had been trying to fuck me since I met them. I never took her up on her offer, because I was a man who didn’t like thirsty women. Thirsty equaled clingy, in my book, and I didn’t want a woman who always wanted to know where I was, what I was doing every second of the day, stalking me, and wanting to always be under me all the time. I wanted to be the chaser, the stalker, the one wanting to be in their skin.
Backward as fuck. I know.
But I just loved a woman who didn’t mind being chased. But tonight, I didn’t give a fuck about Diamond being thirsty. I could wet her palate with this nut I hadn’t busted in a week.
“Probably already looking for yo’ ass,” Lal countered as we laughed. “Nah, but for real, what happened? The last time I seen you in your feelings was when Nyami got rid of your seed.”
“She tried to play me in front of her ex. Calling me by my last name in front of that nigga like I ain’t have her screaming like a bitch in a horror flick last week. Dusty-ass, bum-ass, deadbeat bum looking at me like he still had clout. And her funky ass letting him think that shit, so I outed us. She ain’t called or texted me since yesterday, and I feel a way about that. Her ass probably forgave his bitch ass and gave him my pussy.” Just thinking about that shit had my chest tight. If she fucked that nigga, I was going to take all her right shoes, take all the bottomsto her outfits and her dresses, pour milk in her facial creams, put magnesium in her soup, and flatten all her tires on some petty shit.
“What did you expect, B? They just got a divorce. It ain’t easy to just turn love off—history off,” Bilal stated.
“I don’t need you to tell me that shit, Bruh. I knew what I was doing. I wasn’t even going to say shit about us until she did that shit. I wasn’t mad at her for putting a line between us either, because I want her to heal. But I’d be damned if she let that motherfucka come back after she gave herself to me. I don’t give a fuck if y’all think I’m crazy when I say I’ll kidnap her kids and put dye in her shampoo.”
They both laughed heartily. I smirked and tossed the rest of my drink back. I would never kidnap her kids, but I’d definitely do all that other shit I said if she fucked him.
Trayvon came stumbling out of the house with four women. Two were tucked under his arm, and the other two followed closely behind him. He was loud as hell and feeling himself.
I loved that for him.
Five years was a long-ass time to go without some pussy, so his ass deserved to fuck every piece of ass floating around here if he wanted to.
“Aye, where my nigga at?” he yelled until he spotted me, smiled wide, and walked over to where we sat. His diamonds glistened from the fluorescent lights surrounding the pool, all his thirty-twos showing.
“B, I love you, bro,” he declared.
“Love you too, my boy,” I replied.
“This party lit as fuck, and you understood the assignment when I said bad bitches only,” he said, grabbing the boob of the one on his left as she giggled. “Thank you, brodie.”
