Page 62 of Obsessive Love
“No,” she laughed. “I’m getting up. You enjoy your next hour or two.”
“Nah,” I said, finally letting her go. I rolled onto my back, threw my arm over my face, and yawned. “I’m getting up.”
“You don’t have to,” she said as she got up from the bed.
I moved my arm from my face and watched her walk to the ensuite. After she gave me that fucking head, I showered, then watched her rinse her hair, blow dry it, then straighten it. The process took nearly four hours, and by the time she was done, I was setting her up an appointment with Corinthians to get her hair done biweekly. Corinthians was a licensed barber and cosmetologist, but mainly cut hair and did retwists. Her sayingthat she’d take care of Fable on the strength of our friendship meant a lot.
“I’m up.” I pushed the cover off my legs and got up from the bed. I grabbed my phone, checked my messages, and returned it to the side table. I had a meeting with Xayne St. Thomas later today, but my time would be spent with Fable for now.
After brushing my teeth, washing my face, and changing into my workout clothes, I went downstairs to the gym. Working out at home was new since the arena was closed, but I had a home gym for a reason. It was leg day, and I hated that shit, but I never wanted to be one of those niggas you saw whose upper body looked good as fuck, but his lower body was skinny and dumb looking. After an hour of working out, I returned to the room, showered, and dressed.
“What did you cook today?” I asked Fable when I walked into the kitchen. I cut my eyes at Starburst, who was standing on top of his cage and watching me. “Nigga, you can’t speak?”
“Bitch nigga!” he yelled, and I flipped him off. He threw open his wings, and I laughed. His ass swore he was tough until I pulled out that twine, then he was flying away like a bitch. “Bitch nigga!”
“I’m not going to feed you if you keep talking shit.” I went to the fridge, grabbed the premade food bowl, and then took it to the cage. Watermelon sat at the bottom of the cage, watching us. “What’s good, pretty girl?” I scratched the top of her head and then walked away from the cage.
“Bitch nigga!” Starburst yelled, and I flipped him off.
I approached Fable and pulled her to me. “You didn’t answer my question, Itty Bitty,” I said, then slapped her ass. “You ain’t got no manners like your punk ass bird?”
“Technically, you were in the wrong,” Fable laughed, and I reared back, confused. “The person who walks into the room issupposed to speak to the people in the room first, not the other way around.”
“I spoke,” I said, letting her go. A plate of croissants was on the counter next to a fruit bowl. “These from scratch?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I don’t eat store-bought or premade bread of any kind.”
“I noticed, but I wanted to make sure.” I grabbed a croissant from the plate and pulled it apart. It was still hot and smelled good as fuck. It was sticky like she’d already buttered it and everything. I took a bite, which was so good I stuffed the entire piece in my mouth and chewed it.
“Your greedy ass is going to choke,” Fable laughed as she walked around the island. Her notebooks sat near her iPad, which was already open, and a partial drawing started.
“You’ll save me,” I said, then coughed. “Especially since I gave you some dick last night.”
“Not,” she said, shaking her head.
“Oh, you trying to say my dick game is weak?” I asked, nodding. “Cool, let me get some water, and then I can rectify that.”
“That’s not what I said,” she laughed.
“So, I gave you good dick and head, and you’d still let me die?” I grabbed a water from the fridge and downed half of it. I could feel my eyes watering and my throat getting itchy. When Hood returned from his vacation, I would have him prescribe me some allergy medicine.
“When the Lord calls you home, who am I to tell him he’s wrong?” she replied, and I stared at her. She returned the look, which made me throw my piece of bread at her.
“Fucking childish,” she laughed, then picked up the bread from the counter and threw it back at me.
I caught it, took a bite, and laughed. “You want to go with me? Or are you staying in the house today?”
“You’re going to let me out of this prison?” she sarcastically said and batted her lashes at me. “What did I do to deserve this luxury treatment?”
“That thing with your mouth,” I shrugged, and Fable rolled her eyes. “You trying to roll or not?”
“Yeah, I’ll go,” she laughed. “Do I need to change?”
“Nah, you look good.” I looked over her outfit and nodded in approval. She wore black pants, a pink tee, and a pair of black and pink Dunks.
“Let’s go then,” she said as she grabbed her notebooks.
I took her hand, intertwined our fingers, and led her out of the house and into the garage. “We’re taking the white car,” I said, unlocking the white Porsche’. I hardly ever drove it, but today, I felt like speeding. I always gave Amethyst a hard time about driving so damn fast, but I understood the rush and needed it from time to time. I helped Fable into the car, closed the door, rounded it, and got in. “Put your seatbelt on, cuz I’m about to drive the fuck out of this car.”
