Page 24 of Hooked on Loving Him

Kayshon’s background gets silent, with only the sounds of continuous clicking and low grumbling coming through the line as I cover my mouth to prevent the giggles in my mouth from coming forth. While reading is one of my favorite pastimes, I doubt that Kayshon even knows where to begin with finding something to read from a romance book, no less.

“Hm,” Kayshon says.

“Do you need some help?”

“It wouldn’t be considered a dare if you do. Hold tight, Shari.”

Smirking, I pick up my remote and start channel surfing while waiting for Kayshon to fulfill the request.

“I lay on the couch massaging my temples, but this headache didn’t call for Excedrin. It had Esme’s name written on it. Seeing her at the game yesterday did something to me. It made me realize I wanted her in my future. Fuck yeah, Dro,” Kayshon says.

“Huh?” My brows wrinkle as I replay Kayshon’s words, trying to figure out what he’s talking about.

“That was my passage. Do you want me to reread it? That nigga Dro was speaking the same sentiments about his woman that I had when I saw you.”

Oh, wait… Shit just got real.

“Um. What’s the name of the book and who wrote it?” I ask.

“The Apprenticeby Torryn Santana. It took me a minute because I forgot to highlight the passage when I read the book a month ago.”

Record scratch. I know you’re fucking lying, Kayshon.

“When you read it last month… You read books, Kayshon?” I ask with my finger stuck in position over the up arrow on my remote control.

“Kayshon Tariq Patton and the soon-to-be love of your life. Why are you making it sound like a nigga is illiterate or some shit? Ms. Aretha challenged me to read some of the sappy books she read after I taunted her about it. The shit backfired when I enjoyed the book and started asking her for other recommendations. I don’t have much time to read, but only she knows that I enjoy it until you. Is your life insurance paid up?”

My brain stalls from the constant overload of unexpected information coming from Kayshon. It took me several minutes for his last question to register, causing my face to change as my eyes pinched together, coinciding with the wrinkles on my forehead.

“Uh, why are you asking about my life insurance?”

“So your parents won’t have to start a GoFundMe if you tell anyone my secret.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or redress to go to RPD for a restraining order, because what the hell.

“Um—” Words fail me, causing my mouth to open and close several times before I give up on replying.

“Chill, Shari. A nigga is messing with you. I might have some of Lance’s features, but I will never walk in his bitch ass shoes. Now, truth or dare?”

What the fuck? Who is Lance?

“Hey, Ashari,” Papa Ren says cheerfully.

Lord, you stay sending your mouthpiece on your behalf, huh? I’m still trying to process the last twenty minutes of my call with Kayshon, and here comes Lorenzo Reese.

“Hello. Are you there, Ashari?”

“I’m here. How are you, Papa Ren,” I say without inflection or fanfare as I stare blankly at my TV screen.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me because I can hear something in your tone.”

Of course, you can.

“I met somebody,” I say, chewing on my lip unconsciously.

“I know. Let me tell you what I just heard.”

Now God, if you sent Papa Ren to have me snotting and crying tonight, I’m not interested in popping Tylenol when all is said and done.

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