“It’s going to go perfectly. Just watch,” I told him.
“You gon’keep that all to yourself or can your sister get in?”
Khayla’s voice reached me from the door of the guest bedroom that I had turned into a man cave. Music played low in the background, and I was slumped on one of the couches, thinking about the fact that I had to talk to my mama because she might be part of some grimy shit. Looking up, I held out the blunt to her. She crossed the room and sat next to me before taking it. One pull had her coughing and handing it back.
“What the hell, Khi?”
“Andretti OG,” I said, laughing at her strangled-looking face. “Ol’ weak ass girl.”
She hit me with a throw pillow before settling back against the couch. “So, you really have no idea who this Trell is?”
I shook my head. “None. Shit is aggravating as fuck.”
“You gon’ find him and get all your answers,” she reassured me.
“Oh, definitely. I just hate that it’s taking this long. The longer it takes?—”
“The more you worry about Farrah.”
My head snapped up as she finished my sentence with that. I opened my mouth to argue but she grinned.
“Don’t even bother lying. Anybody can see you feeling that girl. I keep expecting you to change your mind about your plan.”
I shrugged. “I mean, if he takes the bait, it’s a good one. But…”
“But you don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Yeah. I gotta keep her safe.”
She nodded. “How serious are you two?”
“Shit, you know I ain’t serious about none of ‘em.”
I tried to play that shit off with a chuckle. Truth was, Farrah was making me do and feel shit I wasn’t comfortable with. Jealousy wasn’t in me, but I felt some type of way when she was about to kiss Steel and when my niggas had stared at her in her nightshirt and when that bitch ass Ron had called himself her boyfriend. And the thought of her giving that treasure between her thighs to anybody else, especially when I’d been the first to discover it, was a no-go. Right now, as the weed mellowed me out, all I wanted to do was go find her and lay up under her. That definitely wasn’t my type of behavior.
“She staying in your house, you overprotective of her, and you can’t keep your eyes off her. That’s as serious as I’ve ever seen you get.” Khayla pointed out.
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Yeah but changing the subject don’t make it not true.”
I handed her the blunt again. This time, she inhaled slowly, then let out a cloud of smoke. By the third puff, her eyes weregetting low, and she was settling back against the couch. Good. Maybe all the talk was over. But I surprised myself a minute later after I toked on the blunt and opened my mouth.
“I’m not even supposed to like her.”
Khayla twisted around to look at me. “Why?”
“She ain’t my type. And she irritating as fuck. She don’t listen. And she think she too good for a nigga.”
She sat up fast as hell. “What you mean, she think she too good? Who she supposed to be? Don’t make me?—”
I grabbed her arm and passed her the weed. “Chill. It’s not even that serious. She just bougie as hell.”
I told her about the first time I met Farrah and the frown on her face started to disappear. She smirked at me.
“You so clueless.”
“What?”
