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“Chris Tucker. You know you fuck with Chris. I don’t see you turning that shit down,” he bribed, knowing that Chris Tucker was one of my favorite comedians.

“Aight. Let me tell Deja. If she says yes, nigga you driving. I need premium, chauffeur service tonight. Come pick us up,” I told him, watching his reaction.

“That’s cool. You heard what I said about Lyric? Tell Deja to bring her,” he let me know.

“Aight nigga. Ima call you back,” I said and then hung up.

If we were going to go, I needed to tell Deja this shit now. She took forever and a day to get ready. Styling her hair took forever, and then doing her makeup took even longer. She liked to have concerts and shit in the bathroom while getting ready, so that slowed her down too.

I stood up, going over to the sliding door, pulling it back. I closed it behind me, and as I started walking towards the bathroom, I didn’t hear the shower water running anymore. It sounded like the water was running at the sink. Deja never closed the door behind her whenever she went into the bathroom, so I was able to walk right in, and she was running her mouth on the phone.

She stood there with a white towel wrapped around her, and a cleanser on her face, as she did a skin routine. When she saw me walk into the bathroom, she stopped talking, turned her head to look at me, and smiled.

“What’s up papa?” she asked me.

“I’ll tell you when you get off the phone,” I said.

“It’s important? This just Lyric,” she said it in a way like it didn’t matter what I needed to come in here and tell her because she was more than likely going to tell her girl anyways.

“Demarco just hit me. He got four tickets to see Chris Tucker tonight. He wants us to go. He told me to tell you to bring Lyric,” I let her know.

She made a face like she didn’t want to go. Literally, scrunched her face up, looking at me like I was crazy. Lowkey, I knew that was going to be her reaction. She just got in last night, slept all day, and was more than likely still feeling a little jet lagged.

See, at first, I didn’t want to go either, but once I found out that Chris Tucker was the comedian for the night, my mind changed.

“You can go with your brother. I don’t want to go,” she replied.

“Bae, that shit don’t start until nine. You got plenty of time to get ready. You already on the phone with Lyric. Tell her,” I said.

“Lyric don’t want to go either,” she threw out.

“How you know I don’t want to go? I want to see Chris Tucker. My baby already with my mom, so I can go. Wolf, you said nine, right?” Lyric asked.

I laughed while walking over to the phone. I stood behind Deja, looking at her screen. Lyric was chilling in bed. I’m sure that if I didn’t just extend the invite, she probably wouldn’t have left the house for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, nine. Bribe your girl to go,” I said to Lyric, and she laughed.

“That gives me plenty of time to get ready. Deja, get dressed girl. Stop acting like that,” she replied, doing some bribing like I told her to.

Deja sucked her teeth. She used one of the face cloths, so she could wipe away the soap cleanser she’d used.

“How we getting there?” Lyric wanted to know, already jumping out of bed.

“You heard the part where I said that Demarco got the tickets? He told me to tell Deja that he wanted you to come,” I let her know, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not worried about your brother. I’m going strictly because it’s free tickets and I don’t have to work tonight. Relay the message and let Demarco know that I’m not on that kind of timing with him,” she said. I cracked up while shaking my head. At least she knew my brother was full of shit, and not to take his ass serious.

“Baby, send Lyric the address so she can ride with us,” I said, knowing that would be easier for her.

Deja let Lyric know that she would send the address, and then they hung up because they both had to get ready.

The second the coast was clear and Deja was no longer on the phone, I brought my hands up the front of her body, removing the towel she was wearing. I caught it before it could hit the floor. I placed it on the counter, and held onto her breast, cuffing her nipples between my index and middle finger. Next, I placed my head into the crook of her neck, looking at us through the mirror. Deja, who couldn’t keep her hands off me, just like I couldn’t keep my hands off her, reached back, putting her hands in my hair, running it through.

“You act like you not trying to double date tonight,” I voiced, and she laughed.

“This is not a double date because it’s not a date between Demarco and Lyric. I wanted to lay up with you tonight, order take out, and watch a movie,” she whined.

“We can do that when we get back. Shit, I want to see Chris Tucker,” I said right before going for her neck, and placing kisses there.