Page 7 of Hooked on Loving Him

Jeffrey Weeks plays about many things, but his daughters aren’t one of them, and I love him for his protective nature. My sister Amari and I are our parents’ pride and joy, which is why I’m not surprised by Dad’s question. I told my parents about Paul’s foolishness when it started because I wanted their take on the situation. From the beginning, Paul had given me pause when he asked me to accompany him to a farm as a first date. Like, who the fuck goes to a farm for a date. It was weird to me but normal for Paul, who laughed as if my questioning the location was a joke. He then told me it was where all women as beautiful as I was accompanied him.

“No. He’s harmless.”

“Gnats are harmless, yet they still make you crash out, baby girl. Unlike your godfather, I only ask God to forgive me after my sinful deed has me smiling while sitting at RPD,” Dad says, causing me to laugh hysterically.

“You better tell her, Jeffrey. I’m with all the shits and have the clips to back us both up,” Mom says, entering the conversation and letting me know she’s either been in the room the whole time or just heard what Dad said.

“Well, hello, Ashanti girl,” I say, giggling.

“Hey, my baby. Whose ass needs restructuring?”

“What is wrong with you, Mom?” Shaking my head, I start mashing my potatoes to finish my dinner as Mom starts singing.

“I’m from dha hood doe, like dha hood doe, like really, really, really, from dha hood doe,” Mom raps, causing me to start laughing hard enough to choke.

“Raise your hands, baby,” Dad says calmly.

It takes me several minutes to get myself together enough to respond to Mom and her shenanigans as my throat burns from coughing.

“You knowing that dang on song is so wild, Ashanti Weeks,” I say hoarsely.

*ding, dong*

The doorbell sounds before either of my parents can respond, and a wide smile forms at the knowledge of my guests.

“Who is that?”

“Did you accept that mothafucka’s request?” Mom and Dad ask simultaneously, causing my face to tighten as a frown wipes the smile from my lips.

“Uh… hell no, Dad. I gotta go, though.”

“Hm. Don’t make me have to pull up your camera feed, little girl,” Mom says sassily.

“This is why I’m about to change your access. That’s an invasion of my privacy.”

“Ain’t no damn privacy. We’re your parents, and it’s our job to ensure your safety,” Mom snaps.

Rolling my eyes, I place the pot of mashed potatoes on the stove and head toward the front door.

“I’m thirty and too old to have her parents spying on her. Y’all asses are gonna fuck around and see some shit you don’t want to. Keep playing.”

“Unless you plan to fuck on your front porch in front of the camera, we’re good,” Dad says.

Unlocking the front door, I quickly usher my guests inside while placing my finger to my lips.

“All right. On that note, I got to go, but I love you both.”

“Mhm. Tell us anything,” Mom says.

“Love you, baby girl. Enjoy your night,” Dad says.

Tapping my earpiece, I exhale while hugging the two people standing in my foyer with cheesy grins.

“I’m assuming you were talking to my second parents,” Mycah says.

“Or was it your fine-ass godfather?” Jordan asks.

Mycah Kincade has been my best friend since the ninth grade, becoming another sister and my confidante. Jordan Walters and I met our freshman year in college when we became roommates.

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