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“What’s up?” he asked, pulling on his tennis shoes.
“Can I take your Corvette today?”
He immediately snatched the Corvette fob off the hook. “Go to hell, Vera,” he snapped before leaving.
I clicked my tongue. “Stingy ass.”
They were gone, and the note was burning a hole in my hand. I needed the tea. ASAP.
I eased open the guest bedroom door, and the smell of sexy body fluids was overwhelming. Monica lay sprawled on her stomach on the far side of the bed, tangled in the sheets, with one arm hanging limply off the mattress.
“Monica,” I whispered. “Monica,” I repeated louder.
She didn’t move. I left and returned soon with a hockey stick. I nudged her with it a few times until she groaned.
“Damn, girl. You good?” She groaned even louder when she attempted to shake her head. “Do you need me to call the laws?”
“Bitch, you gotta call Ghostbusters or a priest or something because I think my head is on backward. Help me up.”
I rolled my eyes, abandoned the stick, and grabbed an arm, helping her into a seated position. Up close, she looked like death warmed over. Her hair was a nest of tangled, knotted curls; one lash was missing, and the other looked like it could be blown off by the ceiling fan wind. Mascara tear tracks streaked down her cheeks and her lips were swollen. Something caught my eye. My hand shot out, turning her chin toward me.
“Girl, who bit you?”
Monica licked her lips and attempted to run a hand through her hair. She chuckled when her fingers tangled. “Shit. I don’t even know. Probably the nasty one.”
“Which one is that?”
“Chris,” she replied with a crooked smile.
I nearly sat on the bed but remembered it was an active crime scene and sat on the floor instead. “I’m still confused about that. I thought he was gay.”
“Listen, that man might have sugar in the tank, but the tank is only half full.”
“Okay. I’m afraid to ask, but Marlon?”
Monica clicked her tongue and lifted her arms over her head in a big stretch. The sheet fell, exposing her breasts.
“Marlon and I kept tussling.”
I squinted. “Why?”
“That man has too much dom dip on his chip, and I’m too hardheaded for that shit.”
I fell back and laughed. “You went full brat on him, didn’t you?”
“Hell yeah. I made him work for it.”
“As you should, and because I’m nosy—”
“No, there wasn’t any sword-crossing activity,” she answered dryly.
Boo.
“Are you gonna see them again?”
She blew a raspberry, threw her legs over the side of the bed, and wrapped a sheet around herself.
“I won’t get my hopes up. I know what that was—just a wild night that they’ll joke about in the locker room,” she said, gingerly passing me to the bathroom.
