And that was attractive as hell.
Physically touching her hadn’t been a part of my plans coming into the studio, and truth be told, I was more annoyed than anything that she required it just to be able to sing the way I knew she was capable of. But once I did, everything about it felt… natural, easy, normal as hell. And while I had to play it down in the moment, I knew there was nothing “little” about holding her in an embrace while she blessed me with her vocals. A blessing that wasn’t even close to being neutralized as I watched Shy’s ass bounce against my pelvis while she let out all sorts of pornstar-worthy screams.
“Shit! I’m about to cum!”
“Thank God,” I thought to myself, grabbing her hips and thrusting harder to expedite the process until she collapsed in front of me.
I wasn’t even sure why I was still doing this shit with her, wasn’t sure why I had even hit her up to come over after I was done in the studio knowing good and well we had broken up for a reason. But I suppose the nudes she had sent me while I was recording with Zalayah had blinded my judgment, putting me in the sticky situation of kicking her out so I could get a good night’s rest before going back into the studio the next day to put some finishing touches on the first song we had recorded and begin working on the second.
“That was…” she started, dramatically gasping through her words, though I quickly cut her off.
“Amazing? Wonderful? Better than that nigga you cheated on me with?”
My reminder prompted her to climb off of me, taking the blanket with her as she clenched it against her chest and leaned against the headboard. “Gabe, come on. I thought we were passed that.”
“Just because I’m fuckin’ you every now and then doesn’t mean anything, Shy,” I replied as I stood up from the bed so that I could get rid of the condom that hadn’t even been filled.
What a waste.
The bed squeaked under the shift of her weight once she decided to follow me, making me roll my eyes as I listened to her reason, “But it should. I mean, I’ve apologized a million times in more ways than one.”
“Only because you found out that nigga wasn’t worth the mistake you made. That still doesn’t erase what you did. In fact, it only makes it worse. You fucked us up for no good reason.”
While the relationship between Shy and I had always been a little complicated with the constant drama, trust issues, and insecurities, finding out she had cheated on me with some dude that was supposedly going to “manage” her and get her singing career to take off had been the final straw for me. I had seen the guy around The Black Market a few times, had even dapped him up on a few occasions because he had also been in talks with my little brother. But after stumbling across a few text exchanges between him and Shy on her phone, and then digging a little deeper to find out she had actually been fucking him behind my back, there was no way in hell I could unsee it. And it certainly didn’t help that she’d always brag about all this work and studio time he supposedly had lined up for her, only for her to be in the same exact spot of her career that she had always been.
When I finally confronted her about it, her tears ran like waterfalls. And even though I was the hurt one, it still made me feel bad to see her cry because, well, I loved her. So while we had technically broken up, we still stayed in touch, I still let her come around, and we still did… this.
“I’m trying to fix things between us, Gabe. Why do you think I’m here?” she asked, her voice softened as she rested her hands against my chest.
But I knocked them away, blowing past her to gather my clothes as I suggested, “To fuck your way back into my life?”
“That’s a little harsh,” she huffed as she followed me once again, this time crossing her arms over her chest as she watched me put on the basketball shorts I’d be sleeping in.
And since I had her undivided attention, I was sure to double down when I said, “It’s the truth.”
“You say that like you’re not... enjoying me fuckin’ my way back into your life,” she replied as she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind and tugged at my waistband.
Any other time, the simple act might’ve been just enough for me to play along with. But tonight, I wasn’t in the mood. In fact, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been in the mood for her again. So as I made my way out of her hold, gently peeling her hands away, I told her, “Nah, I’m saying it like this is the last time I’m doing this with you. Shit ain’t even cool, man. It’s time for me to move on.”
“Move on? With who? Zalayah?” she snapped, making my face scrunch instantly as I tried to figure out where the hell that had even came from.
Of course she had been around the day Zalayah stopped by to offer the contract, so maybe she was just throwing her name out there hoping it would get my attention. But for her to already be accusing me of moving on with her of all people was just… ridiculous.
“Yo, chill. You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I told her as I yanked my t-shirt over my head, leaving her in the bedroom to get herself dressed so she could get out.
But instead of doing that, she only followed me down the hallway with the blanket still pressed to her chest as she insisted, “I know exactly what I’m talking about. I called Grayson because I was gonna surprise you down at the studio, and he told me he wasn’t with you. That you were with her. And now all of a sudden you wanna move on? You must think I’m stupid.”
“I ain’t gotta be insulting your intelligence just to tell you you’re wrong when you are. Ain’t nobody even checkin’ for her like that,” I replied, though in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn’t the full truth. I mean, I technically wasn’t checking for her quite yet. But I definitely… noticed her in ways I hadn’t before. She was fine as hell, sweet as hell, and...
“You better not be checkin’ for that talentless bitch,” Shy snarled, her face pulled into a tight scowl as she crossed her arms over her chest again while I dug in the fridge for a bottled water.
Since it was clear just the thought of Zalayah was enough to get under her skin, I took advantage of that fact when I replied, “She’s actually pretty good.”
“She’s not better than me! And besides, what are you doing in the studio with her anyway? I thought you didn’t want to be in the music industry?”
Even though Shy and I had stayed on especially rocky terrain towards the end of our relationship, there were times in the beginning when things were smooth enough for me to actually fall in love with her; one of those times being when we’d talk about the music career she’d do anything for – obviously - and the one I wanted nothing to do with. Not that I didn’t support her interest, there was nothing I could’ve done to deter that. But when she discovered my talent, she pushed me into admitting why I would never be in the music business. And now, even with those same reasons still existing, I had clearly broken my own rules.
Why? I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. But that didn’t stop me from shrugging as I made my way back to the bedroom and tossed over my shoulder, “I don’t. I’m just… doing a couple songs, making some easy money.”
“Well, easy money better be the only compensation you’re receiving,” she challenged from behind, stopping in the doorway as if she was waiting for me to confirm she had nothing to worry about. But I didn’t owe that to her anymore. It was no longer my responsibility to make her feel more secure in our relationship because there was no relationship to be secure about, no matter how much she thought otherwise.
So I painted that picture as clear as I could when I replied, “What’s it to you? Ain’t like you’re still my girl.”
What I thought would offend her only made her smirk, sashaying over to where I was standing and resting her hands against my chest as she gushed, “I’ll always be your girl. Just like this will always be your pussy.”
I released a laugh of disbelief, my head cocking to the side and my eyes tightening as I reminded her, “Shit wasn’t even mine when it was supposed to be, so why woul
d I believe you now?”
Once again, my words did nothing to knock her off kilter as she ran her hands from my chest back to the waistband she had teased before. “I can make you a believer, Gabe. Just sit back and let me do all the work.”
In the blink of an eye, she had already dropped to her knees in front of me. And even though my dick leaped to attention in response, I used the right head to tell her, “Actually, I’m good. I got shit to do in the morning.”
But of course Shy wasn’t deterred, continuing to yank at my shorts as she replied, “Tomorrow is Friday. You don’t work on Fridays.”
“Did I say it was work?”
Her hands finally froze in place as she peeked up at me, putting two and two together enough to snap, “Her. You’re spending time with her, aren’t you? She’s your ‘shit to do’?”
“That’s none of your business,” I told her as plainly as I could, though my nonchalance only prompted her to pop up from the ground in a fury.
“Oh, it’s definitely my business! How can I make up for my mistake when you aren’t even trying, Gabe?!”
I hated how mad the question made me, hated that she still had the ability to get me so upset. But there was no way I could let her attempt at playing the victim slide when I fired back, “Not even trying? I was always trying, Shy! Trying to do right by you, trying to support you, trying to give you everything you needed and more. You had me. We weren’t perfect, but we were good. And you blew it with some random ass nigga for reasons I will never understand. So you can keep doing all this trying shit if you want to, but I’m not wasting my energy on something that’s dead to me.”
“I wasn’t dead to you when you were fuckin’ me ten minutes ago!” she challenged as if that was somehow going to change the course of the discussion, as if somehow the reminder of us having sex would be the key that unlocked everything I was apparently missing.
But it really only added to the fact that I had to stop doing this with her as I shook my head and explained, “Never said you were dead to me. But a relationship between us? That shits six feet under.”
I was happy to see she had finally gotten the picture as she began snatching her clothes up in a frenzy, pulling her dress over her head as she rattled, “Whatever. I’m out of here. I don’t have to take this shit.”
“Glad you noticed,” I replied with a smirk as I handed her the panties she was looking for.
She immediately yanked them out of my hand, stuffing them into her purse as she screeched, “You’re such an asshole!”
“That works too.”
She continued her pursuit of the door, and I followed behind her with intentions on locking it after she left as she continued her rant. “I can’t stand your black ass!”
“Made apparent by your lack of respect for our relationship. Proof is in the pudding, Shy. You ain’t gotta explain what you already made clear as day,” I replied with another arrogant smirk.
And while I was under the impression that I had finally succeeded at what should’ve been done long ago, she was sure to make it sting when she turned around, her smirk matching mine when she agreed, “You’re right. I don’t. And you know what? I’m glad I did it.”
&
“Good morn… what’s the matter with you?”
Zalayah strolled into the studio chipper as hell, her Starbucks cup in her hand and her purse in the crook of her elbow as she used that hand to pull a pair of sunglasses from her face. I, on the other hand, was everything but as I tapped against the control surface and tried to prevent myself from yawning.
After getting into it with Shy, I fully expected to be able to sleep even better with the weight of her lifted off my shoulders. But her parting words had practically equated to an extra boulder being added, giving me plenty to stay awake and think about even though I knew she had said it just to be petty.
But then again, was she really glad she did it?
Was she really happy about fuckin’ me over?
Had I really been that naive about it all?
Since the answers to those questions didn’t come easily, and definitely didn’t come without me growing more upset, I avoided thinking about it all, instead choosing to focus on the music I’d be expected to deliver today. So as I pulled the headphones from my ears, resting them around my neck, I told Zalayah, “Nothin’. I’m just a little tired.”
She tossed her purse onto the couch behind us, keeping her Starbucks cup with her as she plopped down into the chair next to mine and started vibing to the faint sounds of the beat I had already put together playing from my headphones. And while it was clear she was taking an early liking to it, she was still sure to confirm, “That beat for me? You’re done already?”
“Yeah, just about. I put together most of it at home, so I only had to replicate it on this system when they let me in,” I explained, grateful the security guard had remembered my face from the night before and given me early access.
“I’m impressed that you were on time. Hell, you even beat me here,” she said with a genuine smile.
A smile I could only halfway match when I replied, “I told you it wouldn’t happen again.” Before following it up by asking, “You wanna hear it from the top?”
“Of course,” she answered, taking a short sip from her cup as I pulled the headphones from around my neck to give to her. And once she had them comfortably on her ears, I turned a few knobs to adjust the volume to a more acceptable level and pressed the button to restart the beat.
Her face was focused as she slowly began to bob her head the longer she listened. And even though she had only listened to a portion of it, she let her approval been known when she unknowingly yelled, “This is dope as hell! Is that a sample from something? Or you made that back beat yourself?”
“I made it myself,” I answered, though I wasn’t sure how well she had heard me since she still had the headphones on.
When she pulled them off, her voice was back to normal as she said, “It’s perfect. I already know exactly what I want the song to be about too.”
“Yeah? What?” I asked, curious to see how she would transform the beat to make it her own.
But it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room when she answered, “Temptation. You know, maybe you’re in a relationship or something, but there’s someone else catching your eye, and you just…”
“No.”
“No?” she asked, her face twisted with a confusion I unfortunately couldn’t explain to her without sounding like a scrub.
So instead I offered her a different vision when I said, “I mean, I don’t know if you should waste this beat on that… concept. I was thinking something more… raunchy, dirty. You know, one of those songs you don’t want your mama to hear you singing. Think Partition by Beyoncé. Or Maniac by Jhene Aiko. Something that really taps into your sexual side while also taking advantage of that 808 bass, turning it into more of a party record for the ladies. One of those songs y’all like listening to when you’re getting ready to go out with your girls.”
I was grateful when she nodded to agree, “I could see that.” Before pulling the headphones back over one of her ears and instructing, “Run it back for me.”
I reached onto the control surface to start the song from the top, watching as she mumbled through a few word combinations to herself before flowing out loud, “I don’t really wanna love, but I wanna fuck… Got me actin’ up, like I don’t really give a fuck. But you not enough, I need a man that’s gonna give it up. Really give it up, givin’ me too much, shit you actin’ tough...”
“Oh shit, pop princess got a little flow on her,” I teased with a laugh as Zalayah pulled the headphones from her ears and handed them back to me wearing a grin.
Then she took a quick sip of her drink before rolling her chair towards the couch to grab her purse as she offered, “You know they used to call me Queen Z back in the day.”
“I feel like I remember that shit. You were all over YouTube, huh?” I asked, turn
ing my chair her way as I watched her dig through her purse and pull out her phone.
And her grin was full blown as she tapped against the screen while she replied, “Something like that.” Before peeking up to ask, “Hey, you think Grayson would be interested in being on a song with me?”
I shrugged, turning back towards the control surface to tweak the volume levels on a few of the instruments as I answered, “I don’t see why he wouldn’t be.”
“Is he busy today?”
“Why? You’re not thinking about putting him on this song, are you?” I asked, turning back around to see her eyes trained on the screen of her phone, though this time she was holding it out in front of her to take a series of selfies.
She didn’t bother stopping her mini-photoshoot to answer, “I don’t see why not.”
“Nah, Zalayah. You gotta do this one on your own. Make your mark. Let the people know you ain’t no blushin’ ass virgin anymore,” I told her teasingly, hardly surprised when she moved her phone from in front of her face to serve me a death stare.
“Shut up! I’m just thinking… this will be one of the songs I present to the execs. It’s make or break. I wanna make sure I get it right.”
I could see the insecurity in her eyes as if she was already imagining their disapproval. And while I understood she was under a lot of pressure to deliver, I also knew that she had what it took to really make it happen. So I abandoned my chair to join her by the couch and assure, “It’ll be fine, Rose. Don’t worry. You got this. I mean, you’ll be flowing more than you’ll be singing anyway. If nothing else, that’ll save you from embarrassing yourself.”
She tossed a hand my way, shoving me in the shoulder with a smirk as she said, “You can be a real asshole, you know that?”
I shrugged, this time fully matching her smirk when I replied, “So I’ve been told.”
She returned to her little photoshoot which I now realized was Snapchat as she scrolled through the different filters and tossed out, “You’re lucky you’re handsome, otherwise it wouldn’t fly.”
Heated Harmonies Page 5
