“Na. Gone finish that shit off!” Laike commanded.
“OK. OK. Give me a chance, gee! I’m new to all of this. It’s been a while since I’ve been outside.”
“About seven years, to be exact,” Lyric blurted out.
“But who’s counting, right?” Ever asked before tossing the rest of the shot back.
I could see her soften and become undone as the contents flowed down her throat. The uptight, timid woman that I’d met hours prior was on her way out of the door, and I couldn’t wait to meet whoever was at the end of that shot glass.
“One more,” I suggested as I smashed the button again.
“One more.” Ever shrugged, surprisingly the first one to speak.
She was accepting the challenge, which meant more to me than getting her wasted. Not only did I want her to enjoy herself, but I wanted her to unwind, too. Tonight would be the last night she ever thought about that nigga willingly. I wanted to swipe her memory with my words and reprogram it with my actions.
“One more,” Laike and Lyric followed up with.
“In the meantime, I’m about to pour me a drink,” Lyric announced as she picked up the bottle of Hennessy.
Two shotsand a cup of Hen heavily diluted with cranberry juice, and the girls were on the floor grinding their hips on one another. Laike and I stayed seated, choosing to watch from afar rather than join the action. Prolonged glances from Ever kept me thoroughly entertained as I sipped from my cup.
“You ain’t been out twenty-four hours and you’re already tricking, fam,” Laike joked.
“I’m still waiting for you to make your point,” I responded, unbothered by his observation.
“That’s the fucking point, nigga.”
“Oh,” I replied, unamused and unmoved. With a shrug, I shifted in my seat.
“This nigga whipped and ain’t even got the pussy yet, only the print in that tight ass romper.”
“Sounds like you looking too fucking hard.”
“Have you seen her? Who the fuck wouldn’t look that hard?” Laike babbled, pushing out air as if I was on some bullshit.
Nodding, I agreed.
“I like that ice, though. She likes them motherfuckers, too.”
“She needs a watch,” I disclosed, staring across the table at the one she’d taken off after I’d asked. She’d put it in the back of her purse that she’d sat on the table. Taking it upon myself, I reached forward and slid it out.
When I laid eyes on Ever again, she was no longer dancing. Instead, she was smiling in a nigga’s face while bouncing one foot on the floor as she nodded over and over. My nostrils flared as I gnawed on the inside of my bottom lip, drawing blood. My eyes never left her frame as she openly showed interest for the man who’d stopped her little innocent whine.
“Whew. My feet hurt. So Kates should really be discontinued. There’s nothing comfortable about these fucking shoes,” Lyric complained as she plopped down in her seat.
I’d heard every word she’d spoken, but I didn’t have the capacity to respond and keep my focus intact. Ever was my main concern at the moment and if she didn’t return to the table soon enough, I’d usher her over myself. I forced my limbs to relax for the second time in about a minute as I homed in on the subject at hand.
Ever’s alluring spirit was so rare and magnetic that I wasn’t surprised by the attention she was getting, neither did I blame the nigga. She’d sucked me into her web, too. But the thing is, she was mine. It didn’t matter if I hadn’t made it official yet. I’d staked my claim the moment I saw her. He was on my turf, and I needed him off before I began a riot in this bitch.
As if she felt me watching her, Ever looked up and then at me. My brows hiked in question as I circled my cup to move the ice around in my drink. Nervously, she smiled at me, but I didn’t see a damn thing to be happy about. In fact, I was the exact opposite.
When I saw her hand slide across her screen after her phone had appeared out of thin air, all the moisture drained from my mouth. I sipped from my cup again to re-wet the dryness. An impatient snort fell from my lips, pushing a massive breath frommy nose as I turned my cup up again. I hadn’t realized my fingers were gripping my jeans until I began smoothing my left hand down my leg – up and down to wean myself of the foreign feeling I was suffering from.
I watched as Ever ended the conversation with the bald, suited guy and headed toward our table. The restraint I practiced could’ve won me an Oscar because I wanted nothing more than to demand her silence when it came to another nigga. Besides, when it was me showing interest, I wanted her mute when a nigga approached her.
“I need to go to the ladies’ room,” Ever stuttered nervously as her eyes danced around the room. She looked everywhere but to me.
“I need like two minutes, Ever. My feet are killing me. If I stand up now, I’m certain I’m going to end up on my ass,” Lyric proclaimed.
