Page 41 of When I Thug You Like That

“What you mean like I used to?”

“Like before you met the backpacker.”

I chuckled. “I think it’s too funny that we still call her that, and I have her saved in my phone under LyingAssBackpacker”

“Hey,” Taina shrugged, “she earned that name.”

Morgan kept a backpack on her when she was out, like it was an accessory. She wasn’t one of those studs who wore her strap on day to day to feel like a nigga. Hers stayed tucked away in her Louis Vuitton backpack, along with enough miscellaneous shit inside to make it look like anything but what it was.

“I told you she texted me, right?”

“Yeah, but we never got into what she said. Here, grab your plate and let’s go in the living room.”

We changed locations, getting comfortable on her sectional. With my plate still in hand, I tucked my feet underneath my butt and continued eating. Taina sat up against the throw pillows with her glass in hand.

“So, what the text say?”

“She had the nerve to ask me if I was done taking my time.”

She shook her head. “Just like a nigga.”

“Girl, that’s what I said.”

“I hope you told that ho this ain’t no intermission. This real life.”

“And did. She over here talkin’ ‘bout coming by my house to explain. I shut that shit down so quick. ‘Cause who house, sir?”

“Yeah, she’s buggin’.”

“It’s them fumes she be spraying in the air after a cut. I think she’s inhaling them.”

Taina got quiet for a few seconds then sat up straight.

“You miss her, Jai?”

I didn’t have to think about my answer. The truth wasn’t farfetched considering the time we were together. “Ummm, sometimes I miss her company. But you know how I am about a boundary. Once you cross me, you lost me.”

“That part. Plus, you done dipped your toe back in the man pond anyway.”

“Now, how we get back to this conversation?”

“Ughh, I just keep thinking about your smile last night. Maybe it’s time you remembered that the strap may do the trick, but ain’t nothing like a good, hard dick.”

She flexed her muscles, and I fell out laughing, almost spitting out my food.

“Bitch, you’re sick!” I shrieked, setting the plate down on her coffee table. “And I ain’t forget.”

Her lips twisted. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You actin’ like I’ve been living this lesbian lifestyle. I’ve only been with one woman, T. I didn’t commit to pussy for the rest of my days.”

“You sure was committed to the cause.”

“No. I was committed to Morgan’s lying ass. But yeah, I’m cool on the niggas and the niggettes at the moment. I’ve been enjoying my own company the last three months.”

“I beg to differ. You got eyes for Mr. Sullivan, and Mr. Sullivan got eyes for you, and that’s all I’ma say about it. Well, at least until you’re ready to admit that I’m right.”

“The only thing you’ve been right about today is the account you chose to get this shrimp and grits recipe from. Dassit.”