Page 22 of Full Court Press

I damn near spit my water across the room. “Yooo, you gotta chill, shorty.” I laughed. “These names and comebacks you got for her is wild. You know her or something? It seems like y’all got a little beef going on.”

She paused a little too long for me, which let me know there was some bad blood between them. It was crazy because I knew for a fact that they couldn’t have been friends. Their worlds seemed miles apart for them to ever run in the same circles. Piper seemed modest and humble with a razor-sharp tongue, whereas Sabrina was bougie as hell, sassy, and very promiscuous.

“She’s beefing by herself. I don’t pay chicks like her no mind. She thinks because her mother and stepfather put up some money to keep True open, that she can do whatever she wants to people unapologetically. I’m from Detroit. We play the dozens and beat a dozen bitches’ ass on any given day.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” I said with a laugh. “I could tell by your mouth that you’re Detroit born and bred. Detroit girls are something different and I could detect that shit immediately.”

“What you know about my city, country boy?”

I smirked. “Far from a country boy. I’m Detroit born and bred, too, shorty.”

“I should have known. Y’all Detroit negroes always calling somebody shorty. What ol’ boy say in ATL? I’m taller than you!”

We both laughed.

“We know that’s cap, though. So, technically, you are a shorty.”

“How tall are you anyway?”

“Six feet four and a half inches.”

“Wow. You’re a damn giant. No wonder you have this big house.”

I chuckled. “Believe it or not, I wanted an apartment, but my people wanted Kiyanne and I to have a home away from home. Plus, Drew Stanford wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Is her mother still around?” I looked over at her and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. That’s too personal, and we’re sort of getting off topic.”

“You’re good, Pipe. I don’t mind you getting to know me since I kind of blew you off for the interview. To answer your question, yes, she’s still around, but not really if that makes sense.”

“It does. In so many words you’re saying she’s a deadbeat.”

I chuckled at the irony. “Crazy, right? You’d think it’d be the other way around.”

“In most cases, but there has been a rise in deadbeat moms lately, so it doesn’t surprise me. All I know is y’all’s baby is such a doll, and I couldn’t see myself not wanting to be around her every day . . . You’re a good dad. I could tell she loves you.”

I placed a hand over my heart and smiled. “Thank you. I try my best to be. She’s definitely a daddy’s girl.”

We got back to work, and before I knew it, I was rubbing my eyes from tiredness. I looked at the time on the TV, and it was after nine o’clock.

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“It’s after nine.”

“Really? Shit. I have to get back to campus,” she said, shutting her laptop and stuffing it inside her bag. I really didn’t mean for time to get away from us. My nana would usually call me up around seven to put Kiy down, but she didn’t make a peep. Not even my moms, pops, or sister interrupted.

I was sure it was because I put the do-not-disturb sign on the door, but still, they would have called down for me or called my cell.

“Piper,” I called out to her once she stood.

She looked down at me. “What’s up?”

“I promise I’m not trying to be on no funny shit, but I’m way too tired to take that drive back to campus. Just chill here until mor⁠—”

“Oh no, buddy. That was not the plan. I’ll just take an Uber back. No worries.”

“I’m not about to let you get in an Uber at this time of night. Just stay. I got six bedrooms with only five being occupied. I can get you something to sleep in and have you back at school bright and early.”