"That's a bet," I said. "I'm looking forward to it already."
We talked a little bit more before hanging up, and when I got off that phone, I was already counting down the hours until the next day. I was acting just like my brother, completely caught up in someone I'd literally just met. But that was how it happened sometimes. One look. One conversation. And suddenly you're thinking about a muthafucka in a whole different light.”
---
I laid in my bed, tired as hell. Thinking about how killing niggas was really exhausting. My body was tired, my mind was racing, but in a good way. A way that had me thinking about Nyla more than I probably should have been.
The next day moved slow as hell.
I did my regular work, moving through the day like I was on autopilot. Dropped off re-ups to three different spots, picked up money from two more, handled the usual business that kept the operation running smooth. The whole time, I was checking my phone every five minutes because Nyla kept texting me.
She'd send me little things throughout the day. Pictures and text.
By the time evening rolled around, I was ready to get out of these streets and into something that felt good for once. Something that didn't involve violence or money or moving product. Something that involved a beautiful woman who could make me smile just by typing some words on a screen.
I got dressed in something nice but not too dressed up. Dark jeans. A fitted black Polo. Some fresh kicks. I wanted to look good but not like I was trying too hard. And then I headed to the bar she'd sent me the address to.
When I pulled up, she was already waiting outside, and my whole world kind of slowed down for a second. She had on this simple black dress that hugged her in all the right places, and her hair was down, falling past her shoulders. She wasn't doing all that extra makeup shit. She was just naturally beautiful, and when she saw my car, she smiled like she'd been waiting all day for this moment.
Maybe she had.
I got out and pulled her in for a hug, and she smelled like something expensive and fresh. I could already tell this night was going to be something special.
We went inside the bar and grabbed a table in the corner. We ordered drinks and we talked. Not small talk. Real talk. She asked me about my dreams and what I wanted out of life. I asked her the same. We laughed about our families. We shared stories about shit we'd been through. She told me about an ex that didn't deserve her. I told her about all the girls that tried to get with me for the wrong reasons.
The more we talked, the more I realized this girl was different. She wasn't trying to be something she wasn't. She wasn't impressed by money or status. She was just... real. And that made me want to be real with her too.
A few drinks in, the alcohol was hitting different. It was hitting good. We were both feeling it. Laughing harder. Sitting closer. Her hand on my arm. My hand on her leg.
"You wanna get out of here?" she asked, her eyes telling me exactly what she wanted to do.
"Hell yeah," I said.
We left the bar and went back to her place. She lived alone in a nice spot, on the east side, nothing too bougie but nice enough that you could tell she had her own money and her own shit going on. That impressed me even more.
When we got inside, I locked the door behind us. She turned to face me, and before I could even say anything, she was pulling me toward the couch. We were kissing, and her hands were already working at my belt.
"Hold up," I said, trying to slow down for a second. "You sure about this?"
Hell yeah I wanted to fuck, tonight too. But, I didn’t want her to think that that was all I wanted either. I really was feeling her ass.
"Don't question it," she said, pushing me back onto the couch. "I've been thinking about you since that day at the compound. I ain’t want to sound pressed last night, but I want you too.”
And with that, she was on her knees in front of me, pulling my pants down, and then her mouth was on me. I had my head thrown back against the couch, my hand in her hair, feeling like the luckiest nigga alive. She was working that mouth like she had something to prove, and I was here for every second of it.
This was the best day I'd had in a long time. Everything was right and I knew that in just a few minutes, I’d be fuckin the shit out of her. And then my phone rang.
I ignored it.
It rang again.
And again.
Something told me I needed to answer it. Something in my gut was screaming that this was important. Nobody called back to back like that unless something was seriously wrong. I was trying to ignore that feeling, trying to stay in this moment with Nyla, but my phone kept ringing like it wouldn't stop.
"Just answer it," Nyla said, pulling back and looking at me. "It might be important."
I was hesitant, but she was right. I reached for my phone on the table next to the couch. It was a private call. I took a breath and answered.
