Walking over to one of the blank canvases, I grabbed some paint and started mixing colors together. I didn’t even know what I wanted to create for real. I just wanted to feel something besides stress for once.
After a few minutes, my eyes drifted back to Kyrie. That man looked too damn good lying there with his arm stretched out over his head while his chest rose slowly with every breath, tattoos covering his skin like somebody had turned his whole body into art.
And honestly? That alone gave me inspiration. Before I even realized it, I had already started painting him.
The room stayed quiet except for the soft sound of my brush moving across the canvas until Kyrie’s phone suddenly started ringing from somewhere near the couch.
I frowned. Getting up from the chair, I walked over to his jeans lying on the floor before pulling the phone out of his pocket.
Unknown number. I hesitated for a second before answering anyway.
“Hello?”
For a moment, all I heard was breathing on the other end.
Then, I heard.
“Is this Sianni?” a familiar voice asked.
My whole face twisted instantly. I knew exactly who the hell this was, and why the fuck was she calling Kyrie’s phone?
“Yeah, this is her,” I replied, already irritated. “Why the fuck are you calling my husband’s phone? Do I need to give you another ass-whooping?”
A smirk pulled at my lips automatically. Apparently, dragging her ass around that movie theater bathroom wasn’t enough because Marissa still seemed confused about boundaries. And honestly? I was trying real hard not to put my hands on her again. But she kept playing. Like shit was funny or something.
“Girl, I ain’t worried about none of that shit.” She sucked her teeth loudly. “That little ass fight you think you won ain’t do nothing. If we are being honest, you can’t even fight for real.”
That made me laugh. Not a funny laugh either. The kind that people got right before they slapped the shit out of somebody.
“You sound really brave over the phone,” I said, leaning against the counter while keeping my voice calm. “But every time I see you in person, yo’ ass end up looking stupid.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “You only got him because I let you.”
That made my jaw tighten instantly.
“Bitch, what?”
“I said what I said. Kyrie knows who he really wants.”
“Marissa, let me explain something to you real quick,” I snapped, lowering my voice. “You calling my husband while he laid up sleeping beside me, sounding desperate, that shit is embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing is you thinking he really gon’ stay faithful to yo’ ass.”
Before I could even respond, I heard movement behind me.
“Who the fuck is that?” Kyrie’s raspy voice cut through the room.
I turned around and saw him sitting up on the couch now, rubbing his hand down his face while staring at me hard as hell.
And the second he noticed my face, his whole expression changed.
“Kyrie,” I said, holding the phone out toward him. “It’s Marissa.”
The second her name left my mouth, his whole face darkened.
“Why the fuck is she calling my phone?” he muttered, snatching the phone out of my hand.
I folded my arms across my chest while he put the phone to his ear.
