Page 18 of Nothing Like Your Ex

Opening his notes app, Melo typed in the title and author name. “A’ight, what’s next?”

“Hmm,” Kwinn hummed, smiling widely. “Ooh, okay. I have two. They’re both favs of mine. The first is Taisha Ryan. Honestly, any book you pick up by her is a guaranteed page-turner.”

“T-A-I-S-H-A?” he spelled out the letters of her name correctly, prompting Kwinn to nod.

“Yes. The second one is one I think you’ll really enjoy. It’s called The Last Man on Earth. He’s a super-famous rapper who gets stranded on an island with a woman he just met.”

Melo’s eyes widened as much as they could, and he chuckled. “What the fuck? Stranded for how long?”

“It’s a pretty long time.” Kwinn laughed. “I can’t give too much away, but I enjoyed it. It’s more of a survival romance.”

Coughing, Melo typed the title into his phone and exited the app.

“A’ight, so I got some books to read. Thank you,” he said, loving how Kwinn was smiling into the screen. Melo could tell reading and talking about books was something she loved, so he was about to love that shit, too.

“You’re welcome. When do you have time to read?” Kwinn wondered.

“I’ll make time, luv. Don’t worry about that. I’ma let you know which one I start with so you can quiz me.”

Kwinn laughed despite herself. Up chatting and discussing books with thee Melo Christian was nowhere on her list of things to do—ever—but here she was. Yet, she still wanted to know why he asked to call her.

“Okay. I sure will. But I’m curious… what made you want to call me?”

“First off, you’re gorgeous as hell. Always have been, so I wanted to know how life’s been treating you. What you into… all that good shit.”

Kwinn blushed. The compliments just wouldn’t stop. “Okay, I can see that. I’d want to call me, too, after seeing me tonight.”

“Talk yo’ shit then,” Melo hyped, grinning. “You did look good as fuck, and I figured you’d be a stranger even though I told you not to be.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to make good on my word,” Kwinn replied, knowing she was most definitely going to be a stranger after tonight.

Melo licked his dark lips. “True, but we got time for that.”

“You are aware that I used to talk to one of your homeboys,” Kwinn said, addressing the elephant in the room and the past they kept walking around.

“Conversing with a nigga, letting him spend some bread on you, and kicking it in the hood ain’t ‘bout nothing. You never fucked him.”

Kwinn’s jaw dropped. “Why would you say that?”

“Am I lying?” Melo countered, already knowing her answer.

“No, but what does me never fucking him have to do with anything?” Kwinn wasn’t offended by far; she just wanted to know what made him take that angle.

Melo cleared his throat. “With all due respect, my baby…not giving that pussy up to him was probably for the best. He ain’t stamp it, or your heart like a real nigga should have, so whatever y’all was conversing about is irrelevant.”

It was more than irrelevant, considering the homeboy was no longer alive. Plus, whatever they had going on was more than a decade ago. Melo wasn’t hung up on whether Kwinn had slept with the man. That shit wasn’t his concern. What mattered to him was that the nigga had never done what a man was supposed to do when he really wanted a woman, which was to stand on business, protect what was his, and make damn sure she knew exactly where she stood with him.

Kwinn was young and having fun, keeping her hands in a few niggas’ pockets back then. It was nothing for her and Saiko to pull up on the Eastside in her tinted Benz and turn heads. The men who’d be posted up knew of her but didn’t know her.

The only things they knew were how she looked, the car she drove, and whatever else Omar told them, which wasn’t much. He would forever try to show her off. Melo used to be posted up right with them, eyeing her, wondering what the fuck she was doing riding through the hood unprotected. Unbeknownst to him—and to anyone else who thought she wasn’t strapped—they were mistaken.

Kwinn was comfortable wherever she went, but looking back, posting up in the hood all those times was risky as hell. Thankfully, she’d made it home safely every night. While Omar loved staking claim to her, Kwinn never did the same. She liked him, but not enough to give it up or commit to a relationship. They were just having fun. The most he’d done was kiss her and rub her pussy through her panties.

“Mm. I guess,” Kwinn relented without a rebuttal. There was nothing to say because Melo was right.

“I guess,” Melo mocked, making her smile. “You so damn fine. Bonnet and all. What time you gotta be up?”

Melo was soaking up her beauty. Kwinn’s looks were stellar. TV show, hair magazine, put a mothafuckin’ ring on it fine. Melo saw bad bitches on a daily basis, many of whom had to alter their physical appearance to look like something. Kwinn was in her natural state, makeup-free, making Melo want to start and end his day with her.