“That got your attention, huh?”
Heavy’s voice floated so smoothly and deeply through the receiver; the annoyance Cyren had before vanished immediately. His voice was so calming, but it carried weight just as his name did.Grinning, Cyren shook her head. She was about to curse the wrong person out for no reason.
“I believe the proper way to answer the phone would be by saying hello,” she replied.
Heavy chuckled at her lowkey trying to check him. He was cool with that. “A’ight. Let’s start over, then.”
“You want me to hang up and call you back?” she asked, incredulously, as if it were the most ridiculous request.
“Yeah. Hang up and hit me right back,” Heavy proposed.
“Okay,” she agreed and ended the call. “Oh, my gosh,” she squealed, grinning. Going to her call log, she was about to do as he requested, but then stopped.
“No. I’m going to make him call me.”
As happy as she was that it was Heavy calling rather than her father, Cyren didn’t want to seem pressed. A minute passed, and Heavy got the hint, dialing her back instead.
“Hello,” Cyren answered, smirking. “You see how that sounds?”
“Man”—Heavy laughed on the other end—“you funny. Hello to you, too. Happy to hear you having a good day and shit.”
“Mhm. I am.” Cyren adjusted in her seat, tucking one leg underneath her. “I’m on my lunch break. How’d you get my number?”
“What you eating for lunch?”
Cyren’s eyes narrowed, knowing he’d heard her question. “Heavy.”
“Rashaun.”
“Huh?” she asked, thrown off.
“My name is Rashaun, baby,” he said so smoothly and without thought. Her eyes widened slightly, the endearment catching her off guard.
“Oh.” She paused, then shook her head. “I guess I never knew your real name.”
“You never asked.”
A smirk tugged at her lips. “True. So where did Heavy come from?”
She’d spoken much too soon about not being able to ask him about his nickname.She couldn’t wait to send Gabi a voice message.
“My ma dukes said I was heavy as hell as a baby, so she and my family started calling me that. It just stuck with me as I got older.”
It was partially Lisa, Heavy’s mama’s, fault that he was such a chunky baby. Solid and thick with rolls and arms in his legs at five months were due to good eating and genetics.
Over the years, his nickname evolved with him. The weight he moved, the money in his pockets, the energy he carried, his presence and respect in the streets, the gun resting in his lap…all of it reflected the man he’d grown into.
That dick is heavy, too, Cyren thought, having a quick flashback. Her body shivered at the thought of how he filled her up, stretched her to the brim, and pulled an orgasm from her so intensely that it snatched every ounce of pain she was experiencing with it. She couldn’t tell him that, but she was sure he knew it.
“That’s so cute. So, which name should I call you?” Cyren asked.
“Whichever name you feel comfortable saying. I was just letting you know my real name. We are on a first-name basis, right?”
“I mean, sure, considering you put your dick inside me. Of course, we should definitely know each other’s real names.”
Heavy choked on a laugh. “Aye,” he called out before coughing and clearing his throat, “I was just fulfilling your requests.”
“I’m glad you know how to follow directions,” Cyren teased, smiling. Had they been on FaceTime, he would’ve seen all thirty teeth; a few wisdom teeth had been removed. “That’ll get you far in life.”
