“Hey,” she spoke, feeling a flutter of nerves as she looked up at his 6’1 frame.
“Sup, ma,” Danger replied, unable to resist admiring the shape of her ass as she slid into the seat.
While he headed around the car, he adjusted himself out of respect. She had him on brick.
“Did you decide where we’re going?” Caresha asked once he got into the car.
“Yeah, Brims.”
Caresha nodded in approval as he pulled out the lot. There was no argument there. Brims had great food. It was a family-owned after-hours spot that served just about everything. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of their homemade onion rings and tropical punch, both of which she loved.
“Cool, I love Brims. But I haven’t eaten there in ages. It’s expensive.”
Danger shrugged. “You get what you pay for. Everything in that muthafucka made from scratch. Gotta pay for that.”
“Yep, you right about that.”
“But you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout prices. Like I told you, it’s on me. Whatever you want.”
Caresha stole a glance at his handsome face, fighting back a blush as she watched him grip the leather steering wheel. She suspected he was running game, but she was determined to stay one step ahead. Her goal was to get something out of this encounter while keeping his troubled ass at a safe distance. Danger was something else. She could tell from the moment she first laid eyes on him.
“Okay,” she said, going along with the vibe.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six. How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
Caresha nodded and turned back toward the window, surprised by the nerves suddenly creeping in. His car smelled like weed and Creed…a dangerous combination. Lord knows she loved her a hood nigga, but experience had taught her most of them meant no good.
“You got a nigga you fuck with?” Danger asked, nodding his head to the chopped and screwed record he had playing lowly.
That question caught Caresha off guard, and she tempted to lie but ultimately opted for the truth. She was a firm believer intreating people how you wanted to be treated. She didn’t want him lying to her, so she decided to be honest.
“Yeah, I talk to a few, but nothing serious enough to brag about.”
“Delete all them niggas.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Two reasons. One, there’s no need for ‘em, especially if they ain’t worth claiming. Two, you fuck with me now.”
Caresha stared at him, thinking he was bat shit crazy, and that he ran a strict program.
“You got any kids? Any lame, retarded-ass exes that can’t let go I should know about?” Danger asked next, recalling her best friend’s situation.
Caresha caught on and burst into laughter, nudging him playfully. “Hush your ass up.”
“I’m just trying to see somethin’.”
“And if I said yes to both?”
“Then I’ll have to prepare my mind, and pistol, for all that.”
She laughed again, shaking her head as he shot her a glare. She realized then he was serious.
“No, no kids and no exes that can’t let go. Just me.”
