Page 24 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

Once the ring was safely inside, Yasser grabbed his drink and came back towards the window where I stood.

“Finding the one before thirty is a blessing. Let’s toast to that,” Yaseer attested.

“Amen.” I tapped my glass against his.

We finished off our drink while I allowed Yaseer’s advice to settle in. I swear, Yaseer was the best thing that happened to my mama. I loved that nigga for life.

CHAPTER SIX

Khaleesi

The blackout curtains left my room pitch dark, and I couldn’t even see my hands in front of my face. That was how I liked to sleep. Plus, I loved opening my curtains each morning, welcoming the bright sunlight as it spilled across the room and lifted my spirits. However, my love for a dark room wasn’t beneficial to me now that I heard movement in my living room. Maintenance wasn’t scheduled to fix anything, and the only other person with a passcode for my door was my mother. A pop-up trip from her wasn’t fathomable without notice because she lived in Atlanta.

Slowly pulling the top drawer of my nightstand open, I felt around until my fingertips brushed across the cold piece of steel. The door swung open, allowing golden sunrays to spill into my bedroom. I lifted the gun, my finger resting on the trigger, as I spun toward the bedroom door. My eyes involuntarily squinted as they adjusted to the light, and I held my breath, prepared to let off a shot to protect myself. Then Xain, his face that looked like it’d been scraped across a cheese grater, and his eye patch stepped into view. It felt like my heart was about to gallop out of my chest. My eyes blinked twice to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.

As I blinked, Xain silently closed the distance between us. Was this about to be a wet dream or a nightmare?

“This has to be a nightmare,” I mumbled to myself.

“Naw, I’m live in the flesh, baby,” Xain’s gruff voice taunted me. It was the shit that nightmares were made of on the average day, but the added rasp made it ten times worse. I loathed that man!

Xain’s begrudgingly familiar citrus-woodsy scent wafting through my bedroom, combined with my sudden urge to pee, told me that this wasn’t a dream at all.

“Get the fuck out of my house! Or I swear to God I’ll shoot you!” I demanded, gun still raised to shoot him right between the eyes.

“You ain’t that fuckin’ crazy,” Xain retorted, stopping at the edge of the bed to kick his slides off.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m about to lay down. Don’t worry, I took a shower before I drove over here. Ion do outside clothes in the bed. My granny ain’t never played that shit,” he explained, slipping into my bed, his solid frame making my pillow-top mattress dip beneath his weight.

He leaned over to me, pressing his forehead into the barrel of my gun.

“Do it,” Xain commanded.

I tried to pull away, but he gripped the barrel of the gun, holding it in place.

“Xain, stop,” I shrieked, taking my finger off the trigger.

“Exactly, you too pussy to use it, so just relax and make this easy for the both of us. My HVAC system went out, and they won’t be able to fix it until the part comes in tomorrow. I can’t go to nobody else’s house because you gave me the flu. Although Vincent told me I couldn’t come by his spot, he had a great suggestion: it’s yo fault I’m sick, so you should be the one taking care of me. I got one fuckin’ eye, I been sick as a dog, and you’re going to help nurse me back to health.”

By the time Xain was done talking shit, he was already under my covers, his head sinking into my pillows like he paid the mortgage.

Xain lifted his head, gaze settling on my Tempur-Pedic cooling pillows. “This shit feels heavenly. What type of pillows are these? I gotta grab a few for the crib.”

My eyes blinked rapidly as I lowered the gun. To my dismay, Xain was right. I wasn’t crazy enough to shoot him. I wished I was. He broke into my house, so I had every right to empty the clip if I felt like it.

“Take the fucking pillows and go home! I’m not taking care of you! You need to get the fuck out of my bed, and out of my house!” I screeched.

Placing the gun on the nightstand, I snatched up my phone to call Q.

“You might as well put the phone down. None of ya devices are going to work, and ya door is rigged so it won’t open unless I make a call. I bought all of the ingredients for you to cook homemade chicken noodle soup. I’ve overheard Amill and Jameera boast about how good you cook on a few occasions. Now it’s my turn to be the judge of that. You ruined my marriage when I had a wife that used to take care of a nigga when I was down. Now you gon’ fill in those shoes.”

“Get outta my face with that bullshit, Xain! I didn’t ruin your marriage, so please stop with that narrative. Your marriage was already crumbling before I ever met you. Salena wanted a baby, but you didn’t want to give her one. Plus, you were putting work before her. You’re divorced because you were a shit husband. I wish my husband would fix his mouth to tell me he canceled the birthday trip I planned for him to do another man’s bidding,” I ranted, folding my arms across my chest.

“You got some big nerves blaming me for the demise of your marriage! My Auntie tells me everything. You know that, right? I might have added fuel to the fire. But y’all had plenty of issues. I was still in a relationship too when you decided to kidnap me. Montell also accused me of cheating with you. He saw security footage of me getting into your truck, and then you took my phone and ignored all of his calls. So, Montell put two and two together and concluded that we were fucking! Do you see me blaming you? No! Montell was an insecure ass nigga, and you weren’t shit as a husband. Now y’all are both sad and single.

“You and Salena were never going to make it. You would’ve given that lady a baby you knew you didn’t want, then resented her and probably been a half-assed father. In my opinion, I did you a favor. You should be thanking me, nigga! Take responsibility for your actions and stop blaming me. I could run around holding a grudge because my relationship never recovered after that weekend, but I don’t. Me and Montell were never going to make it. Just like you and Salena never were.”