Page 18 of The Prez

CHAPTER 6

OMARI

“Sheesh, Little Raf,”I mutter, wrinkling my nose as I change his diaper. “Way to have a blowout before we leave.”

He kicks his feet with a gurgle, making even more of a mess as I try to wipe poop from his legs and back. This is more than a blowout—this is a full-blown crisis. With a sigh, I wipe him down as best I can, then pull out his little bathtub so I can give him a bath.

When I sit him in the warm water, Little Raf immediately starts kicking his feet and tries to pick up some of the bubbles and water, his chubby hands opening and closing around the soapy liquid. I smile down at him, running the cloth over his body.

“Yeah, you get to have fun while I have to clean your messy butt,” I tease him, poking him in his squishy belly. Little Raf stops going for the bubbles and tries to catch my finger, a gleeful sound escaping his lips when he has it. “That’s my finger, big man. Give it back so I can get you cleaned up and bust you out of here. Today is the day for fresh air!” I say with excitement. Like he understands me, he kicks his feet harder, getting water everywhere.

It’s a real shame his uncle is missing out on all this. I’ve only been here two days and Big Raf hasn’t so much as looked at Little Raf. He doesn’t say his name. Just says “him” or points when he asks me a question about Little Raf.

This isn’t what this cute, amazing little baby deserves. He needs a parent. Shane said his biological parents are no longer here, so Big Raf needs to step up.

But I can’t make him. He’s a grown ass man with a chip on his shoulder and a scary fucking attitude. He could chew me up and spit me out if I tried to tell him what to do. He has to come to us on his own.

To Little Raf. Not us. There is no us.

My brain wishes there was. Because fuck, everything about Big Raf is fucking fire. His looks, his body, all those colorful tattoos, and yes, even his growly attitude. I should not like it, not even a little bit. And normally, I wouldn’t. Big Raf is so far from my type, he may as well be a Martian. I’m usually into the bookish and studious type.

That’s not Big Raf at all. But he has my attention.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I finish bathing Little Raf, making sure he’s all clean before I dry him, apply a light layer of lotion, and get him dressed. He smiles and laughs the whole time.

He’s such a happy baby.

“Come on, troublemaker,” I say to the baby as I sniff the top of his head to get some of that sweet baby scent. “Let’s get out of here before you poop on me again.” Little Raf looks at me with those big brown eyes and I can’t help but be reminded of his uncle.

Big Raf’s eyes aren’t as wide, but they’re the same whiskey brown and just as Little Raf is now, his uncle stares at me like he can see through my soul.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. For one, he’s my boss. For another, he’s scary as fuck. But God, I like hissnarly attitude. There’s something so arousing about it, especially when Big Raf crowds me so he can bark some angry words at me.

That has never been my jam. I steer clear of the men with tough guy attitudes and go for the men that were emotionally available and not looking to play games. Big Raf is not that guy. But he’s nice to look at.

I scoff, walking outside to get Little Raf strapped in so we can go to the store. There’s no way someone that looks like Big Raf could want someone like me. I’m not ugly, but he’s probably not the type to date a chubby guy if he even likes guys. Seeing his body the day before—all hard muscles, rippling abs, and deceptively fit arms—he wouldn’t look twice at someone like me.

What Kit says pings around my head, further cementing my own thoughts. Why would Big Raf want a chubby guy when he can find someone that’s fit and in shape, just like him? Someone talking shit about my weight usually didn’t bother me so much, but since it was Kit that said it, it makes me believe he thought that all the years we were friends and just lied to me. That’s what hurts the most.

Sighing, I get Little Raf strapped in and get into the car. I went to grab my clothes yesterday evening after Big Raf took off for hours instead of going today when I told him I would. I was thankful Hazel was home and able to help me. I would have had to make several trips back and forth to the car since I had Little Raf with me. She cooed all over him, telling me I have to bring him by one day so she can get her baby fix. We’re having lunch as soon as I’m done shopping today so she can get her fix before I spend a few hours with her and the twins this weekend.

Big Raf left a stack of bills on the table yesterday for me to get everything Little Raf would need, but he added way too much money. I peeled off enough money to shop and leftthe rest, even though I’m sure he wouldn’t have noticed if I took it all.

I could use the money left on the table. It was over two grand—what I need to pay Brock back. But I’m not a thief. He gave me the money to buy stuff for Little Raf, not pay off my debts. I’ll just ask him for an advance on my pay.

God, I hate the thought of that. He already looks at me like I’m a piece of shit; I can only imagine what he’ll think of me when I ask him for an advance of two thousand dollars because I can’t be a proper drug dealer.

Though, what the fuck was I thinking anyway? I keep kicking myself for accepting Brock’s offer. I should have known fast money was not good money. But hindsight is twenty-twenty. I have to fix my mistakes. I have a job and I’m trying to make up for it. It just sucks that I have to work for free for a few weeks before I can afford the things I need.

I turn on some Disney songs on my music app for Little Raf, singing a few myself at the top of my lungs. Little Raf babbles in the backseat, enjoying the ride and the songs until we pull up to Target.

We walk around the store, and I add all the things the baby needs to the cart. He has nothing. No toys, no books, no games. I looked around his room and only found clothes and diapers. Besides toys, books, games and other odds and ends, I grab decorations for the baby’s room. They’ll liven the nursery up, give it a pop of color.

While I’m at it, I add a few things for the house in general. Nothing too expensive, just a small potted plant and a few of those stupid little pictures with affirmations like ‘Breathe Deep, Love Hard’ and ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ on them. I chuckle, thinking about Big Raf living, laughing, or loving. I guess it’ll be my benefit to see the look on his face when he steps inside and sees it hanging on his wall.

I also grab a few picture frames just in case I catch acandid shot of him and Little Raf doing … anything. The chances of that are slim to none, but a little piece of my love-filled heart is holding out hope that I’m wrong and they’ll be as thick as thieves one day, despite how cold he is now.

By the time I’m finished shopping for everything Little Raf and our home needs, I’m fucking exhausted. I planned to go grocery shopping after I was finished, but I think that’ll be tomorrow’s trip.

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