Page 19 of Never Want to Love Again

I didn’t even look in his direction. Asia was being so extra, but I knew she was overly excited about being close to her favorite rapper.

“Y’all straight?” His raspy voice cut into my thoughts.

“We’re good,” Asia replied.

“Yeah, we’re good,” I agreed.

Crown eased down next to me, and Nisha on his other side. She was on her phone, texting. I could hear Asia squealing through clenched teeth. She pinched me, and I fought not to pinch her giddy ass back.

“What do you like to do for fun?”

I turned to Crown, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, and holding a red cup in one hand.

“In my free time, I binge-watch TV. I’m boring,” I snickered. “What do you do in your free time?” Since he asked me, I thought I would shoot the question back.

He shrugged. “Shit, sleep. I’m boring, too.” Asia was now on her phone, but I knew my girl. She was ear-hustling like a mothafucka.“I’ma have to show you ‘round this big city.”

“So, you want to be my tour guide?” I asked, cocking my head.

Crown grinned, exposing the diamonds in his grill. He took a sip of whatever was in his cup. He leaned over, and I could smell the Hennessey on his breath.

“I could be.”

His lips damn near touched my ear, causing shivers up my spine and butterflies in my stomach.

crown heart

. . .

The moment Kupidcame into eyesight wearing that see-through number with that shit covering her nipples, a lump caught in my throat. She threw me off briefly, but I regained my composure quickly. Trae caught that shit, of course, and called me out on my bullshit with another warning about fuckingthe help.

When the ladies ventured onto the dance floor, I focused solely on Kupid. The way she moved her body bricked my shit up in the rugged Valabasas jeans. I even attempted to focus on other females, the ones scantily clothed. My eyes tended to dart back to Kupid.

“Trae said I need to watch you.” AD came over, chuckling.

I put my cup to my lips and took a sip. “Watch me for what?”

“He claim you fin’ fall head over heels.” AD laughed louder. His belly bounced.

I waved AD away dismissively. “That nigga don’t know what he talmbout.”

AD was grinning as he just stared. “Yeah, aight. When have you flown a bitch out on your PJ, nigga?”

“Watch that bitch shit, AD,” I warned him.

“Maaan, you know what I mean, but answer my question,” he pressed.

Snickering, I replied, “Nigga, I ain’t gotta tell you shit.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” AD walked off, guffawing.

I discreetly watched the three ladies make their way to the restroom. When I didn’t see any nigga grabbing at them, and they disappeared behind the door, I turned my focus back to the crowd. The DJ reached the mic out to me, and I hyped the crowd up. One of my songs,Straight Outta Dreamville,began to play, and my fans out there began rapping the lyrics word for word. I stood back with a huge grin spread on my lips, my head bouncing with the beat.

I beat my fist on my chest. Trae was yelling the lyrics from the top of his lungs, and AD wasn’t too far away, rapping the lyrics, too. No matter how often we heard those lyrics, we felt them every time.

As the song ended, the ladies emerged from the restroom, and the DJ spun a slow jam. When they returned to the section, Nisha approached me while the two best friends sauntered over to the couch.

“‘Sup?”

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