Kyrie:Yeah aight.
Kyrie:Don’t let nobody be all in your face either.
Me:Boy please.
Kyrie:I’m serious.
Kyrie:And if a nigga looking too hard, tell him you married to a nigga that’ll beat his ass.
That made me laugh harder.
“Let me guess,” Drayla said while looking over at me. “Kyrie?”
“Girl, yes.”
“That man be stressing himself out over you.”
Before I could respond, I noticed two girls standing near the bar whispering while looking over at me.
At first, I ignored it.
But then one of them pulled her phone out.
My stomach tightened a little.
See… this was exactly the type of shit I didn’t like.
I suddenly understood why Kyrie stayed so paranoid about me being out by myself.
A few minutes later, the bartender suddenly walked over toward us, carrying another round of drinks.
Drayla frowned. “We didn’t order those.”
“They were already paid for,” the bartender replied before setting them in front of us. “Courtesy of the gentleman over there.”
Both Drayla and I turned around immediately.
Nobody was there.
“What the hell?” Drayla muttered.
Confused, I slowly looked back toward the drinks before finally noticing the folded napkin underneath one of the glasses.
And the second I opened it, my whole mood shifted.
You can’t keep him forever.
I immediately started looking around the club, trying to figure out who the hell sent the note, but all I saw was people dancing, drinking, and minding their own business.
Still… something about that message felt familiar.
Too familiar. Honestly? It sounded exactly like some shit Marissa would say.
My jaw tightened instantly.
Cause if that bitch was somewhere in this club playing games with me, I was gon’ beat her ass all over again.
“Si, sis… you good?” Drayla asked, looking at me like I was crazy.
