It was the same hair she used to argue was all hers as if we all couldn’t see her poor attempts at blending it. And while I was tempted to comment on the fact that she still hadn’t learned her lesson, I was forced out of my thoughts when she finally spoke again. “I saw your mother’s video. I see she hasn’t changed a bit. Always so desperate for attention.”
Khalid’s eyes flashed my way as if he was already prepared to pull my hands out of her raggedy ass weave when I dragged her for talking shit about my mother. But since I knew that was exactly where she wanted me, I simply shrugged when I replied, “Takes one to know one, Shelly.”
Instead of responding, she only wrinkled her nose at me, saved by the nail techs who were ready for Khalid and I. But it was just my luck that Michelle was seated only a few pedicure chairs over, eventually joined by a girl I remembered from her clique.
No wonder her ass hasn’t grown up.
While I had brought Khalid with me specifically for conversation, I couldn’t help eavesdropping on theirs, especially once I heard what I wished I hadn’t.
“Your girl is finally about to be Mrs. Washington.”
“Girl, bye. Chance is way too smart to fall for your nice girl bullshit.”
“Well all that faking orgasms over the years must’ve improved my acting skills because he was all over me when I was helping him and his mama work on her house. Had a bitch removing drywall better than Tim “The Toolman” Taylor.”
“That white man from Home Improvement? Bitch, you’re crazy.”
“I must be. Doin’ construction for the D…” she sang, her friend joining her in one of those too loud for public laughs that had the whole shop looking their direction. Even Khalid was throwing a side eye their way, the noise apparently disrupting the relaxation groove I hadn’t even realized he was in.
Because you should’ve been minding your own business, Londyn.
Since it was his first time, I couldn’t help teasing, “Well, well, well. Look who’s enjoying nail shop time with bestie after all.”
“Nah, I’m enjoying nail shop time by myself since you so busy eavesdropping on those chickenheads’ conversation,” he replied with an annoyed nod in their direction before resting his head against the back of his massage chair and closing his eyes dismissively.
Even though he was being shady, I still leaned in his direction so that I could tell him, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
But when he opened his eyes, it wasn’t to accept my apology, instead so that he could ask, “Is that why you’re beefin’ with her? Cause she has him?”
While the whole idea of her “having” him wasn’t sitting quite right with me, I was still able to brush him off with ease, straightening up in my chair when I answered, “My reasons for beefin’ with her have nothing to do with him.”
“Mmmhmm. You ain’t gotta lie, LoLo. I know you. Sometimes better than you know your damn self,” he insisted, this time leaning in my direction as if he was trying to get a better read on me.
The pressure of his gaze was almost enough to have me admitting the full truth; that I certainly felt sick listening to Michelle go on and on about Chance. But that didn’t stop me from challenging, “Well tell me what I don’t know, Khalid.”
His voice was low enough to stay between us when he replied, “You want Chance, but he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you cause he’s too busy playing Habitat for Humanity and shit with ol’ girl over there.”
“So I see I wasn’t the only one eavesdropping,” I groaned with a roll of my eyes, mad he had made a big deal of me not paying him any attention as if he hadn’t been doing the same thing I was.
He at least had better reasons, quick to defend, “Shit, I ain’t have a choice. Them birds over there talkin’ all loud like they’re the only ones in here, disrupting my zen with my girl Ling here.”
“Her name is definitely Mary,” I said with a laugh, hoping she hadn’t heard his ignorant ass.
But just because I saw it as ignorance didn’t mean he saw things the same way, leaning in a little more to whisper, “Her American name is Mary. Stay woke, Londyn.”
This time, I really bust out laughing, sitting back in my seat as I said, “Anyway. I’m not trippin’ off either one of them. If that’s what he wants, more power to him.”
It sounded good coming off my lips, but I didn’t really mean it. And Khalid knew it too, laughing at me when he said, “Damn. Ol’ boy really got you big mad. Ain’t used to somebody turning your ass down, I see.”
“You turned me down, remember?” I asked with a scowl, the memory alone making me want to slap his ass the same way I wanted to in that moment. I mean, how dare he have the foresight to make a decision for us that worked out perfectly in the long run?
My scowl only made him laugh again. “Yeah, and you ain’t talk to me for a full week after. With your salty ass.”
“That shit hurt my feelings!”
“Well it would’ve hurt more if I would’ve dogged your ass out. Then who would you be at the nail shop with on this lovely Saturday afternoon?” he asked with a teasing smirk.
One I couldn’t help matching with one of my own when I answered, “Probably my sugar daddy.”
He groaned in disgust, making me laugh just as my phone vibrated in my lap. And when I picked it up, I saw it was a text from a number I didn’t have saved, though the message told me everything I needed to know about the sender.
My petty was on full tilt when I told Khalid, “All over her, but in my inbox…?”
“Word?” he asked with wide eyes as I handed him my phone to see the message for himself.
“I’m ready for that answer, Londyn.”
Since the number wasn’t saved, Khalid looked confused, handing it back while asking, “How do you know it’s him?”
While I saved the number to my contacts, I explained, “I told him to hit me up when he wanted an answer to something he asked me at work. It’s gotta be him.”
“And you’re gonna entertain that shit knowing he was messing around with ol’ girl?” Khalid asked, making way more sense than I needed him to for the situation. But it was moments like this when I appreciated his male insight, his question enough for me to at least put my phone down.
“You’re right. I’m not gonna respond… yet. Make him sweat a little bit,” I said, focusing back on my nail tech as she tickled - scrubbed - the hell out of the bottom of my foot.
Khalid wasn’t nearly as relaxed as I was, still pressed about what I thought was the right decision when he said, “Man, I hate when girls do that shit. Wanna be on y’all phones twenty-four eight. But when a nigga finally hit you on some act right, y’all play the waiting game.”
“It works though,” I insisted, having enough experience to know nothing made a man more anxious than waiting for a response.
And the reason Khalid was so pressed was because he knew it too, shaking his head as he agreed, “There’s truly nothing more humbling than waiting all day to hear back, just to be left on read by someone you’re interested in.”
“You know what else is mad annoying? When you text somebody and then you see them on social media. I mean, I’ve ignored people too because nothing is that urgent, but damn it sucks to be on the other end.”
That one really got Khalid fired up as he barked, “Man, that shit childish. Like, just tell me how you really feel. You ain’t gotta do all that.”
“So… I… shouldn’t post this picture of our feet with a heart as the caption?” I asked, already playing with the filters trying to decide which one gave the picture a more intimate feel.
It was silly. Something I wasn’t even sure Chance would see, though I was clearly on his mind according to his text. And Khalid didn’t exactly agree with the move when he answered, “Yeah, if you want ol’ boy sitting on your porch when we leave here like a damn psycho.”
The idea of Chance being that jealous only fueled my flame, giving me everything I needed to tag Khalid in the pict
ure before pressing “Share”. And as I watched the likes start to roll in, I finally replied, “Well he should’ve thought about that before he started playing Bob the Builder with Michelle.”
&
So he wasn’t waiting on my porch when I got home, but he had sent his text again only to be met with the same thing; me ignoring him. And it felt… good to have him on his toes, felt great to stick it to Michelle even if she wasn’t aware, and it felt especially exhilarating to finally break my silence since him reaching out to me was what I wanted in the first place. But breaking my silence wasn’t synonymous with me letting him off easy, made apparent when I replied to his message with, “Who’s this?”
As if I hadn’t made him wait all day for my response, he didn’t make me wait at all, his message making me laugh since I could practically feel the tension.
“Damn. You got so many dudes hittin’ you up you don’t even know who it is?” - Chance
Knowing exactly who it was, I played right into his little assumption.
“Obviously…” - Londyn
“It’s Chance.” - Chance
With my lip pulled between my teeth as I snuggled deeper into the couch, I quickly thought of another way to tease him when I sent my next message.
“Dude #13. Funny seeing you in my inbox this evening.” - Londyn
“You told me to hit you up when I wanted an answer to my question.” - Chance
“And you must not have read the fine print on that offer. Shits expired, homie.” - Londyn
Once again, I was only teasing him, knowing there was no such thing since he could pretty much get it anytime, anywhere. But this time, instead of feeling giddy with control of the conversation, he ripped it right from me, the power in his response making me gasp… and hot all over.
“Well renew it. I want you.” - Chance
Unfortunately, his declaration wasn’t as simple as making it happen, other variables enough to cool me down as I thought about his little building buddy. And with the memory of our interaction from earlier still fresh on my mind, it was easy to fight fire with fire when I typed out my next text.
“Because Michelle already cut you off?” - Londyn
The speed of our texts back and forth had been fairly steady until I sent that one, Chance taking his dear sweet time to respond which meant he was probably trying to come up with some weak ass lie.
“And he said he’s not trash like these other dudes around here…” I thought just as his reply finally came in, my eyes squinting as I read it a few times over, trying to decide how much I wanted to tell.
“Michelle? What does she have to do with anything???” - Chance
“I saw her today at the nail shop. And she was SO excited to brag to her little friend about you being all over her at your mom’s house. Might wanna clean up your game if you’re really trying to juggle multiple women.” - Londyn
Fuckin’ with Chance exclusively while he was in town was one thing, but being a part of his hometown rotation was not going to happen. Though of course he did his best to save face when he responded. “Man, what? The only reason I touched her was to save her clumsy ass when she almost fell off the ladder.” - Chance
“She probably did that shit on purpose,” was what I wanted to reply since ol’ girl was clearly on a mission to get Chance by any means necessary. And with that in mind, it seemed plausible that that was really all that had happened between them, allowing me to relax just slightly with my next text.
“You ain’t gotta lie, Craig.” - Londyn
“LOL. Quit playin’ with me, LoLo.” - Chance
“Bonus points for understanding my movie references,” I said out loud with a smile, a little mad that he had managed to change my energy towards him so easily even when I replied, “I don’t play. That’s for children. It’s called strategy.” - Londyn
“Well can you use some of that strategy to open your front door?” - Chance
“What?” I gasped in a panic, my hands first going to my head to snatch off the scarf I had tied over my braids and my eyes flashing down to the grungy, oversized t-shirt I was wearing with a pair of Khalid’s basketball shorts I’d stolen.
The least sexiest thing possible.
It was a little embarrassing, but it would have to do. And truthfully, he still had some questions to answer before he’d ever get my full sexy again; not to mention his ass had shown up unannounced which was a complete violation.
Maybe he is a psycho after all.
As if I had forgotten about him that fast, he rang the doorbell, the noise making me jump before I took a deep breath to calm myself. I mean, this was just Chance after all. He’d seen me through plenty of sketchy phases growing up. And if he was here for what I thought he was, clothes would quickly become irrelevant anyway.
I stopped in front of the mirror to check myself one last time when the doorbell rang again, his urgency annoying me as I finally snatched the door open and barked, “Don’t you ever show up to my house without an invitation. I could have one of my dudes in here.”
I was glad I had gotten my sentence out before taking a full look at him, his casual apparel of a gray Nike Tech hoodie with matching sweatpants enough to make my mouth water as if he was standing on my porch naked.
“Might as well be,” I thought, especially when he gave me that sexy ass smirk and laugh combination to reply, “If that was the case, I would be saving you. Now let me in.”
He was already taking a step towards me when I stopped him with a simple, “No.”
“No?”
I put on my best attitude like it was a wig, straightening my stance as I repeated, “No. You don’t get to just show up and… be this fine, and smell this good, and…” shit, my wig is slipping “still not give an explanation for what took you so long to get in touch.”
Knowing he had spent time with Michelle during the interim was almost enough to make my attitude real, though Chance didn’t attribute his absence to that at all when he explained, “I had to think about it.”
“Think about it? What was there to think about? It’s as simple as your thing in mine, repeat until we both get enough.”
“So why are we still standing out here talking then?” he asked, the question so fair that I almost said fuck it and agreed with him.
But since that would’ve only made things too easy for him, I twisted my lips, averting my eyes when I pushed out, “Because… I’m not in the mood for you.”
“Well let me get you in the mood for me,” he quickly replied with another of his little smirks, taking a step closer and bending his head to land a kiss at the crook of my neck.
A kiss that I accepted - and moaned in response to - even when I groaned, “Ugh. I don’t know where your mouth has been.”
“You know where it’s about to be though,” he replied as his lips moved from my neck to my ear, tugging it between his teeth before he laughed right against it. And while I felt myself growing weaker and weaker by the second, somehow I found a last little bit of strength to make myself clear.
“I don’t share, Chance. Especially with people I don’t like.”
As if he understood exactly what I was talking about without even mentioning her name, he gave a short nod. “Good to know. Now can I put my thing in yours and repeat, or what?”
It sounded especially goofy coming from his lips, making me giggle as I stepped aside and told him, “Get your silly ass in here.”
Once he followed me in, he wasted no time attacking me from behind, completely crowding me when he draped one arm across my upper half and wrapped the other around my waist to keep me in place. And it felt insanely good to have him all around me, to be enveloped by his scent, to have his dick pressing against my back through his pants as he growled, “I’ma make you pay for duckin’ and dodgin’ me all day too. Think I ain’t see your little post on Instagram?”
“It was a cute picture, huh?” I asked teasingly, earning myself a full bite to my neck that had me closing my eyes in
pleasure.
He pulled his lips away just long enough to mock, “Oh, I got your cute picture, alright…” Going back in for more as I held onto his arm while he kissed and nibbled our way to the couch. And once we were there, he was quick to get rid of his hoodie and pants, watching him undress a sight worth stopping to admire.
Though I also couldn’t help mentioning, “You probably aren’t getting this hoodie back.”
“Well go ahead and run me sixty dollars then since you wanna play sticky fingers with my shit,” he replied, making me laugh as he moved on from removing his clothes to removing mine. With his hands at the waistband of my shorts, he stopped to ask, “Who’d you get these basketball shorts from? I don’t remember you being a hooper.”
It would’ve been easy to be honest, tell him I “borrowed” them from Khalid the same way I planned on “borrowing” his hoodie. But making it easy wasn’t nearly as fun as answering, “None of your business. Just take them off.”
Instead of doing what I demanded, his face turned completely serious. “I don’t share either, Londyn.”
Seeing him all sexy, and possessive, and almost naked had me ready to hand over the lock and key to everything me without even looking back. But I somehow managed to be a little more sensible, taking a page out of his book when I answered, “Good to know. Now are you gonna get to what you’re here for, or do you need to stop and retreat to your safe space?”
He wasn’t at all fazed by my little jab, instead tugging at my shorts then my panties as he said, “You’re such an asshole, LoLo.”
“Only because you haven’t put anything in mine,” I replied, my voice muffled as I pulled my shirt over my head, leaving me as almost naked as he was.
I wasn’t sure if he was grinning in reaction to that or to what I had said. Either way, my heart started racing when he insisted, “Shit, if that’s what you want,” before grabbing me by the ankles to yank me towards the edge of the couch. Then he got rid of his boxers, the sight of his harder-than-reasonable dick only making me wetter - while also scaring the shit out of me since it definitely couldn’t fit anywhere near my asshole. But that didn’t mean I was backing down, licking my lips as I told him, “I was just joking. Maybe.”
The Games We Play Page 6
