“Damn, and hungry, huh?”
She laughed, realizing he had heard her stomach.
“And is. I’ma need two plates of those leftovers.”
Crown shook his head as he glanced at Nyla, who had just begun to stuff her tiny fist into her mouth, indicating she was hungry too.
“I see where she gets that greedy shit from.”
“Hush and give me my baby.” Nivéa tried to take Nyla from his arms, laughing.
But Crown moved her from her grip. “Ourbaby,” he corrected, kissing her lips. “Go get her a bottle. I’ma feed her.”
Smiling, Nivéa wondered how she got so lucky as she stared at him. She didn’t object. Instead, she stood and headed downstairs into the kitchen.
In the living room, she noticed Danger and Caresha talking quietly on the sectional. She strained to hear what they were discussing, but they kept their voices low while the TV played in the background. Excited and nosy, she paced the floor even after warming the bottle, trying to catch snippets of their conversation. That’s until Crown walked into the kitchen with a fussy Nyla.
“Aye, hurry yo’ nosey ass up. She’s screaming while you in here eavesdropping and shit.”
“Shh,” Nivéa burst out laughing and hurried across the kitchen, following him.
∞∞∞
“So, what you do for a living, Miss Reesh?” Danger asked, trying to keep the conversation going. From the moment shewalked through the door, he was on her bad.
Caresha pulled her eyes from the television, taking him in. His long locs hung loosely around his face. They were overdue for a retwist, but the recent taper around his temples and the sharp line-up along his hairline kept him looking good. It gave a rugged look that fitted him perfectly, in her opinion. His beard was trimmed just right, accentuating his dark lips. Looking at him almost made her want to lean over and kiss his chocolate ass.
If Caresha was being honest, he was the only reason she had decided to stick around. Otherwise, she would’ve kissed her best friend and godchild goodbye and been gone a long time ago. But one look at him and those small tattoos on his face, and she was parked.
“I’ma stripper.” She conjured up the most serious expression she could manage.
“Word?” Danger’s brows knitted together as he studied her face again, then his gaze drifted over her body. “I ain’t never seen you before.”
Caresha couldn’t keep a straight face; laughter bubbled up inside her. “That’s real sad.”
“What you mean?”
“You spend all your time at the strip clubs to the point you know the dancers by heart?”
“I ain’t say all that, but I’ve been to every one of ‘em a couple of times. I would’ve remembered you.” His eyes roamed every inch of her, not disrespectfully but with a clear appreciation that gave her butterflies.
“Mm-hmm. I’m just messin’ with you. I work at a call center.”
“You enjoy it?”
Caresha laughed again, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Is that a serious question?”
“Hell yeah. I’m trying to get to know you. You playing games and shit.”
“Hell no, I don’t enjoy it. But it’s what pays the bills, so it is what it is.”
“I feel that.” Danger nodded, tugging at his chin hair.
“I do hair when I have the time.”
“Oh yeah? Is that your true passion?”
She shook her head. “No, not really. I never thought to take it seriously. It always came to me as a side hustle. I guess ‘cause I only do natural hairstyles, so finding my audience would take time. Most women in the Hills want bust-downs.”
