Page 40 of Nothing Like Your Ex

“What’s your email? I’ma have my attorney send you some paperwork over.”

With her eyes still heavy with sleep, Kwinn lifted her head from his chest. “Paperwork for what?”

“For the song.”

She frowned slightly. “What about it?”

“You need to get paid for the intro. Forever.”

A small smile tugged at her lips as she laid her head back down. “Okay.”

Ever the quick learner and listener, Kwinn didn’t put up a fight about it. She took in the seriousness in his voice as he explained how it’d work. There was nothing boastful about it. Melo wasn’t trying to make her feel like she owed him anything for the opportunity. If anything, he’d be more offended if she questioned whether she deserved to be compensated.

“You don’t play about your money, huh?” Kwinn humored him.

“Not at all, and I don’t play about you or yours either. You got your own shit going on, and I respect that. I’m not the type of nigga that’ll have you doing something for me and then act like it didn’t mean shit.”

Kwinn’s bottom lip poked out as she gazed up at him. She was learning to accept his generosity, but there was something different about knowing he wanted to make sure she was taken care of without making her feel like she needed him to do it.

She placed a kiss against his beard. “Thank you, my baby. I appreciate that.”

Melo smirked at her using his lingo. “You’re welcome. What you wanna get into today? I got us a massage booked later on, and I got a few meetings, but they’re just over the phone,” Melo said.

“Isn’t your birthday coming up?” Kwinn’s random question made his brows dip.

Chuckling, Melo said, “Yeah, it is. Is that what you were dreaming about?”

“No.” Kwinn giggled. “It crossed my mind. You’ll be thirty-eight, right?”

“Damn, yeah, I will be. I’m getting on up there,” Melo expressed.

“You’re still young, though. What do you want at this new age outside of the music?”

Her question stumped him for a minute. All anyone had ever asked him was what more he wanted musically. It was crazy to say, but Melo didn’t know.

“Honestly? I couldn’t even tell you. More time with my family, something solid. Shit, might purchase the whip we been riding around in.”

Kwinn sat up slowly beside him and crossed her legs. “No, not anything materialistic. What do you want from this new year? You should write down thirty-eight things you’re grateful for.”

“Is that what you do every birthday?” Melo asked, interested as ever.

Kwinn nodded. “Yes. Each year, I’m grateful for more and something else. It’d be a good way to look back over the years and see how much you’ve grown, situations you’ve left, things that matter more, people who don’t. I make a short list weekly.”

Nodding, Melo thought about his life and everything he’d experienced. He had so much to be thankful for. Most niggas who’d come up like he had, never made it out, let alone this far. There’d been a target on Black men’s backs before they knew what this world expected of them.

A few bullets hadn’t been enough to keep Melo down. He hadn’t allowed the desperation of making a few quick bucks to reduce him to nothing more than a drug-dealing gangbanger turned rapper. That was only a piece of his story. Melo was much more than that, with a heart of gold and as thorough as they made them.

“I fucks with that, luv. Thirty-eight things,” he uttered, already creating a list.

Kwinn smiled. “Yep. It’s not that hard.”

“You know what is hard and what I’m grateful for right now?”

She looked down at his morning wood and snickered but played along. “Nope, what is that?”

“You. I’m very fucking grateful, my baby. Having you out here with me really made a nigga’s week.”

“Awww,” Kwinn cooed, kissing his lips. “It made mine too. Now, let me see what this dick is talking about this morning. I know he misses me.”