Page 68 of Love & Streetball

“This is Ebony, and she’s finna do your makeup, baby,” I answered, letting go of the door and it shut loudly.

“Kane, I don’t wear makeup.”

“I know, but it’s your birthday, and I want you to try something different.”

“I’m not wearing no thick-ass eyebrows and eyelashes that look like windshield wipers.”

The makeup artist laughed again as she rolled her cases into the suite. “He requested soft glam. Nothing too dramatic.”

Slim’s eyes narrowed. “He requested it?”

“I told her not to have you looking like a whole different person.” I snickered at the look Slim was giving me. She wanted to kill me, and I was alright with that.

Slim pinched the inner corners of her eyes. “I’m doing this for you, but this would probably be the only, and I do mean only time I wear it.”

I nodded. “Aight, but what about when we get married?” I asked her, causing her eyes to widen.

“Chill, Kane. You’re taking me too fast. Let’s not talk about that.” Slim laughed nervously. The makeup artist smiled, her eyes darting from me to Slim.

“Well, let her do your makeup so we can make the reservations I have for us”

The makeup artist started pulling out and setting her things up. Slim sat in the chair, her eyes in slits. I grabbed my clothes and disappeared into the bathroom so I could get my shower out of the way.

By the time I finished showering and getting dressed, almost forty-five minutes had passed. I wore black slacks, a fitted black button-down shirt, and black loafers. I left the first two buttons open and added my chain and watch.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the makeup artist was packing her things.

Slim was standing near the windows with her back facing me. Her arms crossed over her chest as if she was irritated. She turned around and my heart damn near dropped. She was already beautiful to me, but right now she was fuckin’ gorgeous and the makeup was light. Lashes, blush, a little razzle dazzle to her eyes brows, but not that thick shit she didn’t want. Her lips were a light pink, lined with a darker shade of pink. Scottie was beautiful as fuck.

“Damn, I breathed out, finally breathing.

“I’m taking it as you love it,” Ebony said with a smile.

“On big sandals upstairs I do,” I replied, causing them both to giggle. I quickly sent Ebony the rest of her payment plus a extra tip for doing a great job. Even Slim wasn’t talking shit. Her ass must’ve liked it, but wasn’t going to express it.

The makeup artist packed up her things and left shortly after. Slim had gone into the bathroom. I heard the shower start. I had an outfit picked out for her that was hanging up in the closet, where I knew she wouldn’t look. It wasn’t something outrageous, but it was a black two-piece set I was sure Slim was about to fight me on. At least I wasn’t trying to put her in heels. I’d gotten her Louis Vuitton sandals.

I laid the outfit across the bed before sitting on the edge to wait for her. A few minutes later, the shower cut off. The bathroom door opened, and Slim stepped out wearing the hotel robe again.

She stopped when she saw the clothes.

“What the hell is that?”

“Your outfit.”

“My outfit?” She walked closer and picked up the top with two fingers. “Kane, where is the rest of it?”

“That’s all of it.” I cackled. “C’mon, man. Get dressed. It’s not short…with your pretty ass.”

Slim glanced away, blushing. She grabbed her underwear and bra, along with the clothes and strolled back into the bathroom. I could hear Slim talking shit in the bathroom while she dressed. It was amusing.

The bathroom door opened. I had to bite down on my lip. The set wasn’t bad. In fact, it was perfect on her. The top was cropped, her toned stomach on display, but it had long sleeves. The skirt was fitted and stopped a few inches above her knees. It hugged her hips as if it was made just for her. Before she turned around, I was sure her ass was sitting up perfectly in it too.

She held the skirt against her body. “This shit is tight.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

“I’m not wearing this.”