Sosa
The night was going exactly how I'd envisioned it. Club Bleu was packed, bottle service was flowing, and everybody who was somebody was either in my section or trying to get in. This was my shit.
I was posted up on the couch, one arm stretched across the back, surveying my kingdom. Trigg was across from me looking like he was plotting some fuck shit, which knowing him, he probably was. Rah was drunk as hell with Mya on his lap, slurring his words and being all affectionate. My other guys were scattered around, drinking, smoking, and talking shit.
Then off in the corner tryna be incognito as fuck was Yah-Yah. She was sitting by herself on the far end of the section, head down in her phone like she wanted to be anywhere but here.
She looked good too, Her Black dress hugged every curve, braids looked freshly done, and her makeup was on point. But she had this energy around her, like she didn't want to be bothered. Like she'd rather be anywhere else.
I took a pull from my blunt and stood up, making my way over to where she was sitting. She didn't even look up when I sat down next to her, just kept scrolling through her phone like I wasn't there.
"You know it's rude to be on your phone when you at somebody's function," I said, leaning back and stretching my arm across the back of the couch behind her.
She glanced at me, then went right back to her phone. "I didn't know there were rules."
"There's always rules, ma. Especially in my spot."
"Your spot, huh?" She still wasn't looking at me, but I could see the corner of her mouth twitch like she wanted to smile. "So, you own the spot and the people in it?"
"Something like that." I plucked the phone out of her hand before she could react, holding it up out of her reach when she tried to grab it back. "Now you can pay attention."
"Give me my phone, Sosa." Her eyes narrowed, and there it was, what I had been looking for all night, that feisty shit.
"Nah, not yet. You gon' sit here and have a conversation like a normal person first."
"I don't remember agreeing to that."
"You didn't. But you here in my section, drinking my bottles, so you gon' do what I say." I grinned at her, knowing how arrogant I sounded and not giving a single fuck. "That's how this work."
She stared at me for a moment, and I could see her trying to decide if she wanted to keep fighting or just give in. Finally, she sighed and sat back, crossing her arms.
"Dude like what the fuck?! Whatchu’ wanna talk about?”
"You." I set her phone down on the table, but kept it on my side, just in case she got any ideas.
. "I don’t wanna talk about me; Can I have my phone back now?"
"Not yet." I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. "Why you sitting over here by yourself? Your sister over there having a good ass time, she lit, but you over here looking like you at a funeral."
"Maybe I don't feel like being bothered."
"Too fucking bad." She finally looked at me fully, and I could see the frustration in her eyes.
"You a demanding ass nigga huh?"
"Always." I didn't even try to deny it. "I see something I want, I go get it. That's how I got all this." I gestured around the club.
"That's how I get everything."
"And what, you want me?" She said it like she didn't believe it, like it was some kind of joke.
"Maybe." I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral even though we both knew the answer. "You interesting. Most bitches would be all over me right now, trying to get my attention. But you can't wait for me to leave you alone. That's different."
"Or maybe I'm just not interested."
"You interested." I said it with complete confidence because I could see it in the way her breath hitched when I leaned closer, in the way her eyes kept darting to my lips.
“You swear you that nigga, cocky ass.” she muttered, side eyeing me over the rim of her glass.
