Page 72 of Deuce

“He asked me to take care of his medical bills so his wife and daughter didn’t have to suffer.”

“Did you?”

He nodded. “Of course, she wouldn’t accept it coming from me. I had to make an anonymous contribution, but she knew it was me. I guess I felt bad about the way I acted.” He looked over at me. “It’s crazy as hell that you are trying to date his daughter.”

“I ain’t said shit about dating.”

He chuckled. “If she’s anything like her mama, she’s not gonna settle for being one of your cum rags, nephew.”

“Well, you know about cum rags, Unc. You still cheating on Jeanie?”

He glared at me. “Don’t worry about me and my wife. She ain’t going nowhere.”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean she ain’t getting hers on the side. You and Pops can’t be the only ones that can have your cake and eat it too.”

“You trying to tell me something.”

“Nah.” I took the blunt from him and pulled from it. “I’m just talking shit.”

He stood to his feet. “Uh huh. Let me go find her. You just worry about that girl making your ass sucker.”

He walked away, leaving me alone with my blunt. I sat back in the chair and went back to scrolling Salima’s Instagram. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of looking at her. If she refused to settle for just a sexual relationship, maybe being her nigga wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, I hadn’t had a girlfriend since high school.

Maybe it would be fun.

If my mama liked her, she could be a contender.

I groanedat the sound of my phone going off. Blindly, I reached around for it without pulling the covers from over my head. Finally locating it, grabbed it, prepared to curse out whoever was on the other end. Through partially closed eyes, I saw that it was Deuce.

I frowned. When I agreed to spend time with him today, it was never mentioned that he’d be calling me this early. After my mama went to bed, I was up half the night cleaning and rearranging my bedroom. Then Shar snuck and called me after Maceo fell asleep bragging about the type of dick he put down.

I spent an hour listening to her, giving me every intricate detail of their sexcapades. Was I happy for her? Yes. Was I jealous? Absolutely because while she was over there getting her back blown out, I was over here wishing I had the nerve to do the same.

“Stanley, do you know what time it is?” I grumbled.

“I know you ain’t still sleep.”

“It’s eight o-fucking clock!”

“I know what time it is, baby. Get your pretty ass up and get ready. I’m taking you to breakfast.”

At the mention of food, I tossed the covers back as sat up.

“Where are we eating, first?”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about all that. All you need to know is the food is bomb.”

“How can I trust your word on that?”

“Because a nigga loves to eat. I wouldn’t feed you no nasty shit, baby. Get up. I’m gonna be to you in about twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes! That’s not enough time!”

“Woman, just get your ass outta bed, damn.”

“Bye, nigga.”

I hung up and tossed my phone on the bed. Standing to my feet, I stripped down and headed into the bathroom to shower. How dare he rush me? Just for that, I was going to take my sweet, slow time.

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