I shook my head before palming my face. "You have to hide, Dose."
"What?" His face contorted. "I'm a grown-ass man, I ain't fuckin' hiding."
"Dose, please," I pleaded. "She doesn't know what we're doing yet."
His shoulders shrugged. "Then she will."
"Please hide. You can go in the closet, baby." I walked over to him, feeling my slick thighs smack together from the cum swarming down. I clasped my hand over his wrist and pulled him to the closet while he took baby steps, fucking with me. "Stop playing!"
Before closing the door, I kissed him on the lips. "She won't be here long."
"Yeah, whatever."
I couldn't help but giggle because he was damn near touching the ceiling, he was so damn tall.
Nya had the patience of a damn ant, because she'd gone from knocking on my door, then my window, then knocking on my door again. I could hear her outside talking to herself like a crazy person.
"I know this hoe hear me! Sia, I swear to God?—"
I swung the door open, cutting her off mid-sentence.
"Girl, what the fuck!" I snapped, trying to look annoyed instead of guilty.
Nya stood there with her hand on her hip, looking me up and down with those judgmental-ass eyes. She had on a cute little matching set—some Fashion Nova shit—and her lace front was laid to the gods. Her makeup was beat, but she had that look on her face like she knew something was up.
"Don't 'what the fuck' me, hoe," she said, pushing past me into my apartment. "I been out here knocking for ten minutes. What you was doing?"
"I was in the shower," I lied, tightening my robe around me.
"Mmhmm," she said, her eyes scanning my living room like she was the damn FBI. Then her eyes landed on the window. "Whose truck is that parked outside?"
My heart dropped. Fuck.
"That's the cable guy," I said quickly. Too quickly.
Nya's head snapped toward me, her neck doing that thing where it looked like it might pop off her shoulders.
"The cable guy?" she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "Bitch, the cable guy driving a F-450? And since when you got cable problems?"
"Girl, I don't know what he drives," I said, waving her off. "He just came to check the box or whatever. What you doing here anyway?"
Nya sucked her teeth and plopped down on my couch like she owned the place.
"I need a favor," she said, crossing her legs. "You know that nigga I been talking to? The one with the Hellcat?"
"Which one?" I asked, because Nya had like five niggas on rotation at any given time.
"The fine one with the dreads," she said, like that narrowed it down. "Anyway, he taking me out tonight and the strap on my heels broke. I need to borrow them YSL heels you got. The black ones with the gold buckle."
I blinked. "You came all the way over here for some heels?"
"Bitch, yes!" she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You know I can't show up looking busted. Plus, I wanted to see what you was up to. You been acting weird lately."
"I ain't been acting weird," I said defensively.
"Yes you have," she shot back. "You been dodging my calls, canceling plans, and now you got the cable guy over here at nine in the morning looking like you just got fucked."
My face got hot. "Girl, bye. The heels are in the guest closet. Go get 'em."
