His fingers slid into my hair before he leaned closer. “You sitting here scared of yourself while I’m just thankful you’re still in there.”
I frowned. “So you liked me more when I was kidnapping people, laundering money, and cutting niggas up?”
“Hell yeah. That shit used to turn you on, and as soon as we got home, you used to wet my dick up afterward, too. It was a win for me,” he joked, and I rolled my eyes despite myself, making him laugh.
“There go my Koko,” he grinned, pressing that dimple deep into his cheek.
“What?”
“That attitude.”
I shook my head and pushed his hand away, but a small smile still pulled at my mouth before disappearing again.
My gaze drifted around the apartment. The place still felt cold and temporary. Even the floor was bare except for the blankets and pillows we’d been sleeping on.
Nothing about the place felt like home.
Booda followed my stare and already knew where my mind went. “You hate this shit.”
“I don’t hate it.”
“You do.”
I sighed. “I’m tired of feeling like I’m in survival mode.”
From sleeping in my car to pinching pennies, my focus had been on surviving the next memory and the next threat.
I was exhausted.
Booda sat up behind me before pulling me with him until I rested against his chest. “Then let’s do something about it,” he said simply. “Let’s deck this bitch out and shop ‘til you drop. You used to love dragging me to stores, and I used to love seeing you try on shit for me.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. The idea of doing something that didn’t involve blood or money laundering or looking over my shoulder felt like a luxury I hadn’t earned yet.
“I don’t have money to just throw away on furniture and shit,” I said, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t entirely true.
The fifty grand I’d moved last night was proof of that. There was money. There was always money in Booda’s world.
“You got whatchu need,” he said, and I felt him move even closer. “That’s never been the issue, and if it ever becomes one, I’ll get out there and get it. You never have to worry about that when I’m around.”
The rain picked up outside, drumming harder against the glass. I listened to it for a moment, trying to decide if I was actually considering this or if I was just tired enough to agree to anything that promised me some semblance of normalcy.
“You know what?” I said, sitting up a little straighter. “Let’s do it.”
Booda’s arms loosened around me, and I turned to face him fully. His eyes searched mine like he was checking to make sure I meant it, and when he found what he was looking for, that dimple deepened again.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but we can’t go crazy. We have to be responsible with how we spend.”
Booda nodded as he pulled me back down into his chest. “I hear you, but it’s not me you have to worry about. It’s you.” He placed a soft peck on the back of my neck with a chuckle.
I snorted. “Nigga, please. You the one who wanna buy the whole damn store.”
“And you the one who used to walk in for one thing and leave with ten bags,” he shot back instantly. “Don’t act brand new now.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” He rubbed his hand gently along my side. “I want you to be comfortable in your skin again.”
