I ain’t say nothin’, but looked at her for a second, realizin’ it was more to her than a loud mouth and red hair. Then, I kept eatin’.
When I finished, Toni stood up quick and grabbed my plate before I could. “I got it,” she said. Then she leaned down and kissed my cheek, soft but playful. “I knew you was gon’ fuck this plate up.”
I chuckled under my breath. “You proud of yourself, huh?”
“Hell yeah,” she said, smirkin’. “And you ate every crumb, so I must be doin’ somethin’ right.”
I pushed my chair back and stood up. “A’ight. I’m about to work out. I need a partner this mornin’. Somebody who ain’t gon’ fold halfway through.”
All the women looked around like I’d just asked ‘em to dig a ditch in heels.
Taffy looked up from her plate and waved me off. “Uh uh—nigga, look at me. This belly been ridin’ with me since middle school. One lil’ workout ain’t finna change a damn thing.”
I looked her dead in the face and said, “Yeah, a’ight… but if you gon’ be rollin’ with me, you gon’ have to get that soft-ass body in the gym eventually. I ain’t carryin’ you up no stairs.”
The girls hollered, and Taffy damn near fell out her chair.
Toni’s hand shot up. “I’m in.”
I pointed at her. “Cool, but you gon’ have to take that hot-ass red wig off. Just lookin’ at it got me sweatin’, and I ain’t even started workin’ out yet.”
Chanel Banks let out this loud dramatic-ass laugh from across the room. “Chile, I’m glad I ain’t the only one who noticed!”
Toni turned slow and narrowed her eyes. “Anyway… I’m not about to keep arguin’ with no hoe that got eczema on her hairline.”
The room cracked up.
I didn’t say nothin’, but shook my head again.
Nyah Roux stood up and started collectin’ dishes. “I guess I’ll clean the kitchen,” she said lowly.
Toni glanced at her and nodded. “I’ll be back. Let me go change.
She disappeared upstairs, and I walked off to my room to change clothes.
When I stepped out to the patio with a water bottle to stretch, I noticed the rest of the women had wandered outside too, loungin’ by the pool or postin’ up on the deck furniture, talkin’ and actin’ like they wasn’t watchin’ every move I made.
When I walked back inside, I heard soft footsteps behind me.
I turned and saw Toni Roc. She walked down the stairs in black biker shorts and a fitted white tank, sneakers laced, no wig, or lashes—just her. Her natural hair was pulled into a high ponytail, thick, fluffy, and long enough to hang past her shoulders even with it tied up.
I looked at her for a second too long, and she noticed.
She raised her eyebrows. “Nigga, what? You thought I was bald-headed?”
I smirked, but I was still lowkey studyin’ her. “Shit… I thought it was straight scalp under that wig. You just shocked me, that’s all.”
Her ponytail swung a little when she laughed, thick and full, and the shit was real.
What really caught me though wasn’t just the hair. It was the fact that under all that loud shit she be on, under the jokes, the ratchetness and the big energy she carried, was a woman that actually had layers. And I ain’t mean that in a soft-ass, poetic way either. I meant it like… there wasmoreto her than I thought. At the table earlier, she was talkin’ about cookin’ for families goin’ through hospice like it was nothin’. She was on somereal-life, I show up when it matter,type shit. And now, here she was…natural, hair out, no filter, but still bold, still funny… but somehowrealerthan she’d ever been.
That shit was doin’ somethin’ to me. I wasn’t gon’ say it out loud, but it was.
I nodded once. “A’ight, let’s go. Let’s see if that natural strength match all that talk.”
She laughed, walked beside me and that ponytail swayed like it knew I was watchin’. I led her down the hall toward the gym, tryna keep it cool… but the truth was, I ain’t expect to be feelin’ any of these women this early.
And yet, Toni Roc? She was startin’ to make it hard not to.
