My jaw tightened. “Where y’all goin’?”
“Roman.” Her voice got that warning edge. “Why?”
I stared at the wall. “So I know where you at.”
“You don’t gotta know my every move,” she said, a little sharper now. “I’m grown.”
That laugh that came out of me wasn’t even funny. “I ain’t Tr—” I caught myself, shook my head. “You sound just like you always do when you tryin’ to keep control of everything.”
“Excuse me?”
“You so used to playin’ man and woman that you don’t even know what it feel like to let somebody else give a fuck,” I said quietly. “I’m not askin’ ‘cause I wanna boss you. I’m askin’ ‘cause I care. Big difference.”
She went silent.
I lowered my voice. “I like knowin’ where you at. Who you with. If that’s a problem, say that.”
She exhaled into the phone, softer than before. “You not my damn daddy, Roman.”
“I’m not tryin’ to be your daddy,” I said. “I’m the nigga that’ll break somethin’ behind you if I have to. That’s it.”
“Exactly,” she said. “I don’t need you breakin’ nothin’ behind me right now. I just wanna have a good time with my girls.”
“You act like I’m sayin’ you can’t go out,” I mumbled. “I just asked where.”
“Some lounge,” she said, like it cost her somethin’ to give that up. “Downtown. We ain’t even left yet. Charlee still gettin’ ready.”
I checked the time.
“Aight,” I said. “Send me the name.”
“For what?”
“So I can pull up if I feel like it,” I answered honestly.
She laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, no. You not ‘bout to be on that.”
“On what?”
“On poppin’ up everywhere I go like you own me,” she said. “That’s not cute.”
My jaw clenched. “Who said I was tryna be cute?”
“Roman.” She sighed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Before I could say anything else, the line went dead.
I stared at my screen.
She really hung up on me.
My thumb hovered over her name ready to hit redial, but I dropped the phone on the desk instead and sat there, feelin’ my blood boil.
She wanted space.
“To have a good time with her girls.”
Cool.
