The delivery guy frowned as he carried the chairs to the other side of the table, but he didn’t say anything. Still, I could tell he didn’t like my micro-management.
Did I care? Absolutely not.
“Switch those too.” I pointed at the others.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.
“Thank you,” I replied politely.
I appreciated his professionalism despite his obvious frustration with me.
Furthermore, I didn’t want him to think I was a total bitch. I was just a little… peculiar about my shit.
Booda took a seat on the sofa and leaned back into the couch, watching me with amusement written all over his face. “You happy now?” he asked.
A small smile pulled at my mouth as I looked around again. Honestly? Hell, yeah.
The apartment still wasn’t completely set up yet. Pictures were stacked near the wall waiting to be hung, and shopping bags covered half of my bedroom floor, but it finally felt warm in here. That feeling alone almost made all the havoc I’d caused to get the money feel worth it.
Almost.
A delivery guy passed by carrying another lamp, so I quickly moved out of his way, and headed into to the living room.
“Okay. I ain’t gon’ lie. This couchisnice,” I admitted as I dropped down onto the sectional beside Booda, lowkey glad he had talked me into buying it.
“Told you. I got good taste,” he bragged, and I giggled as I stretched my legs across his lap with a satisfied sigh.
Music played softly from the television while people moved around the apartment finishing up the last few deliveries.
As I watched my home come together, happiness spread through my chest. Things felt so naturally peaceful that it made me wonder if this was also how life was for me before the accident. If so, I didn’t want the feeling to end.
I leaned toward Booda, ready to reward him with a kiss for helping me feel like myself again. However, before my lips landed, my phone buzzed against the couch cushion beside me.
I pulled back and glanced down at the screen. The smile instantly slipped off my face, and I rolled my eyes when I saw it was Giani.
Again.
“She still calling?” Booda asked, studying me closely.
“Yes! At this point, it’s pissing me off.”
“You gon’ answer?”
I stared at the screen for a few seconds before grabbing the phone, pressing end to send her to voicemail, and tossing it onto the coffee table.
“Nope.”
The second my back hit the couch cushions, it started ringing again.
“See what I mean? This bitch is doing too much. She been calling me nonstop for two days straight.”
Booda smirked. “Maybe she nervous.”
“About what?”
“That’s what happens when the energy shifts.”
I frowned, trying to understand what that had to do with me and Giani arguing. Booda could be cryptic as hell sometimes. Was that how he’d always been?
