Heavy bent down to whisper the last part in her ear, and Cyren’s heart thumped right along with her pussy. She’d tried giving her girl a pep talk in the restroom, and clearly, he had overheard it, because she was betraying her. Heavy had dampened the panties he could’ve laughed her right on out of. Maybeslidingwith him somewhere wasn’t a good idea. But what was life when you played everything safe?
5
“Who you said that was again?”
Heavy was halfway listening to Marc, a mutual homeboy, with his eyes locked on Cyren. She was across the room, having an animated conversation with Boobie and another girl Heavy had seen in passing. They’d made it to Big Dre’s place, and the packed house seemed to all want her attention. She didn’t look uncomfortable, but he knew how his people could get. Technically, they were her people, too. But that was beside the point.
“I never said,” Heavy finally answered, glancing briefly to his left.
Marc nodded, sipping from his Styrofoam cup. “Damn. I ain’t ever seen her ‘round here before. Lil’ mama fine as a mothafucka.”
Heavy’s jaw ticked. Thirsty niggas’ eyes had been on her the second they stepped through the door. It wasn’t lost on him how Cyren was a rarity to niggas like Marc and the rest gathered in the living room. Her beauty, bright smile, and spellbinding giggles could make the darkest days feel like the best.
“Then, she got them legs out,” Marc continued, completely smitten, even though Heavy ignored him. “You know I love a tall woman.”
“I don’t know shit, nigga,” Heavy grumbled, annoyed that the nigga was even talking to him about her.
“A’ight. Watch this, though. Bouta go see what lil’ mama on. Hope she ain’t fucking ‘round with Boobie.”
Heavy didn’t give a fuck what Marc was yapping about. They’d established on the ride over that they were both single. Heavy’s confirmation was made inside Goodie’s. He knew Cyren wasn’t going for Marc’s short ass. But he looked on anyway, realizing the shift taking place in his mind. He didn’t want any of the men coming in contact with Cyren and tainting her. That could only happen if it were him. Fucked-up logic, but it was honest.
“My man, a hunnid grand,” Big Dre called out, walking his way. An empty glass and a bottle of Hennessy were in one hand, while the other held an old-fashioned glass of the cognac on rocks.
Heavy’s eyes fleeted his way. “What’s good, OG?”
“Have a drink with me, man. It’s my boy’s day.”
Big Dre was drunk. It was all in the slur of his words and the redness of his eyes. He could be inebriated in the comfort of his home, and Heavy wasn’t going to make him drink by himself.
Heavy accepted the glass, holding it out for him to pour a healthy amount of liquor. He said he wasn’t drinking, but between Marc’s weak shot he was shooting, and his feelings, he needed something to relax his nerves. The liquor went down smooth as he sipped.
“I ain’t expect this many folks to show up,” Heavy acknowledged.
Big Dre glanced around, nodding. “Shit, me either. Tell Black folks you throwing something on the grill and to bring a few drinks, and their asses are pulling up twenty deep.”
The men shared a deep laugh.
“You ain’t ever lied,” Heavy agreed. “You straight, though?”
“Man”—Big Dre sighed, exhaling whatever he was feeling—“can’t lie... I’m fucked up, but my boy wouldn’t want to see me down in this bitch. I been holding it together, though. Celebrating his life like I know he would’ve been.”
“You already know he’d be clowning you,” Heavy said, picturing Dre getting his jokes off.
What y’all in this bitch sad for? I’m the one gone, missing everything. You niggas sharing drinks without me. Got the hoes in their feelings, posting birthday collages of me and shit. Cheer up and pour up sum’!
Heavy could hear his voice so clearly; it calmed him.
“He’d be clowning yo’ ass, too. You ain’t slick, nigga. My niece came here with you, didn’t she?” Big Dre asked.
Though not related by blood, only by a marriage that ended in a divorce, Big Dre still considered Cyren one of his own.
Heavy smirked. “Yeah. It ain’t like that, though. I knew she needed to get out of the house and shit.”
“Yeah, a’ight. You ain’t foolin’ me. Your eyes ain’t left her since you got here.”
Heavy wasn’t denying his claims because they hadn’t. They were still glued to her even as she shook her head at Marc’s lame attempts to woo her. The fact that she had to look down at him made Heavy laugh. Cyren caught the sound, and her eyes met his. Smiling, she didn’t bother to excuse herself from the conversation before making her way to him.
“No drink for me?” Cyren asked, glancing at the bottle in Big Dre’s hand.
