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“Morgan’s on his way over,” I told her so she could get her complaints out now before he arrived.
“Great.”
Her dramatic tone made me chuckle, but Solana didn’t find it funny. Words were always exchanged whenever their paths crossed, which was more than I liked considering we had shit to handle.
“Not today. Do it for me. Please.”
She wanted to stand her ground, but Solana was weak for me, so that ‘please’ sucked her in.
“I’ll be good out of respect for you, but he better not start with me,” she warned.
“Or what?” I challenged because Feisty Solana was sexy as fuck.
“You and him will find out if he keeps playing with me.”
“Pipe down. I’ll handle Morgan, but I need you to handle something.”
She squealed as I wrapped her in my arms and slipped my tongue in her mouth.
“You’re going to make me burn breakfast,” Solana complained.
“Fuck that. I have something else to eat.”
Lifting her on the counter, the knock on the door put a pin in my plans. I could tell from the pattern of taps that it was Morgan.
“I gotta get that.”
“How the hell did he get here so fast?”
My shoulders hunched, irritated that I had to put tasting Solana on hold. Walking to the door, I checked the peephole, and sure enough, it was Morgan standing in the hallway.
“Damn, it smells good in here,” Morgan exclaimed, letting himself in. “I guess keeping her around is good for something.”
“Aye, nigga!” I complained, hitting him in the back of the neck. Ever since we were kids, his mouth had been getting him into shit I had to get him out of. “Act like you were raised better.”
Solana set my plate in front of me before announcing, “I’m going to shower.” Because the only way she could tolerate Morgan was to keep her distance.
“That shit actually looks good. I need a plate.”
“If you keep fuckin’ with my lady, you’re not getting shit.”
“Shorty’s gotta get tougher skin. I’m not walking on eggshells for her ass or you.”
“You ain’t gotta’ do shit for me, but when it comes to her, tread lightly. If you can’t, don’t say shit at all,” I ordered while Morgan made his plate.
“She didn’t spit in this shit, did she?” He asked, sitting across from me. I lifted my head because he just couldn’t help himself.
“What? I can’t ask that either?”
“No, you can’t. You don’t have to eat here.”
“Anyway. Did you find anything on the footage?” he asked, changing the subject because even though he didn’t like Solana, his fat ass loved food.
“Nah. I planned on giving it a second look today, though. Does anybody from the casino remember anything?”
“The streets always talking, especially when money is involved, and ain’t nobody saying shit,” Morgan complained.
“Yeah, that shit ain’t sitting right with me either,” I agreed.
