“I have to put on clothes, Righteous.” Jariyah pouts.
“Fine. Don’t complicate this shit more than it needs to be. Wear whatever makes you comfortable. .”
“No worries. I got this, and you’ll leave with your dignity intact.”
The problem with that statement is that I know that Jariyah won’t be. One experience with Baxtown Iron is either going to chew her up and spit her out or have her fall harder for me than she is now. But this is a test to see how serious she is about going against the grain. Can Jariyah handle my world?
Will my brothers accept her? Only time will tell. Tonight is going to show Jariyah whether she’s cut from the cloth that makes her believe she wants a man who lives a life that can often be dangerous and problematic, despite her mother’s wishes. Ready or not, Jariyah’s moment of truth is on the line tonight. Something deep inside of me prays that Jariyah has what it takes to be with a nigga like me.
Jariyah Navae Owens, what the hell are you doing? Are you really about to plunge into this wildfire?I don’t know if it’s Mom’s ultimatum or my desire to dig deeper into what’s developing between Righteous and me. From the moment I met Righteous, I knew I wanted him, despite the tinge of fear his presence commanded. But damn if my hands aren’t sweaty as I shuffle through my closet for something appropriate to wear tonight. I've never been to this type of party. So my nerves are jittery, and my stomach flips like a pancake.
My suggestion to meet Righteous was only to give me time to give myself a pep talk. My blood ran cold when Righteous told me that he wasn’t talking about his actual family. In that moment, fear crept up my back and nearly paralyzed me.Righteous made his club members sound ruthless and heartless—traits I’m unfamiliar with have me in my head, wondering if I’m in over my head.
Hell yeah, you are. But what’s done is done. Put on your big girl panties and pretend you have your stuff together.
That thought causes me to nod and continue my voyage of what I’m going to wear to this shindig. This isn’t one of the events I attend for Mom, so I know I need to dress differently from what I’m used to. But damn, what does that even mean? I walk out of my closet, grab my phone, and plop on my bed as my fingers dance over the keys. I open my internet browser and type a question.
How do motorcycle people dress for parties?
I chew on my index fingernail as the results populate because I really have no idea what I’m doing.
“Hm. Leather jackets, denim, and boots paired with elevated basics like silk scarves. My goodness. I don’t own a leather jacket or a silk scarf other than what I wrap around my hair to sleep.”
My forehead wrinkles as I contemplate whether I have anything in my closet that fits the attire given in this search result. That thought has me closing the internet browser and going to my text app. Without thought, I send a quick message to the one person who has the answers that I need.
Me:
What are you wearing tonight? *side eye emoji*
The reply is immediate, and a hoot of laughter follows.
Righteous:
Nothing. *shrugs*
Before I can recover from his first reply, Righteous sends a new message.
Righteous:
I told you not to sweat this shit. Just put on something that’ll make me want to fuck you in a crowded room.
“What?” My eyes stretch when I read that text because what in the world does that even mean?
Me:
Seriously, Righteous?
Righteous:
As a mothafucking heart attack. Quit overthinking this shit, Jariyah. You’re a beautiful woman, so whatever you wear will enhance what I already know.
“Aw,” I coo.
Righteous is a man without a filter who has occasionally said some things that give me pause. But this message lets me know that he can boost and affirm me in the best way. I have been complimented by a man before. But it feels different coming from Righteous for some reason that’s unidentifiable to me in this moment. With my confidence no longer in question, I reply.
Me:
Okay. I’ll see you soon.
