Page 56 of For the Love of City
“Oh, we doing it big then.”
His excitement made me laugh but if I could just get to sleep I wouldn’t be mad. “You think I can stretch this one more day?”
His eyes scrutinized my hairline and I knew he was seeing all the things I did: Lace that wasn’t lifting but wasn’t crisp. Hair that needed a good wash and condition the way my natural hair did.
“Pretty, I’m not gone lie to you, that shit needs to be touched up or sum’.”
I rolled my eyes at how fucking serious he was being because I knew my shit looked bad. It was the reason why the hair was up in a bun and I had a headband keeping these edges down. Shit, it was his fault I’d had to put it on because we’d sweat them out in his office. But I wasn’t about to step out tomorrow looking like leftovers.
“Damn you can’t tell me a pretty lie?”
He licked his lips, which had me biting mine because there was something about a man who had dark lips that just did it for me. City knew his ass was fine, which is why he had my ass blushing whenever he called mePretty.
“Not gone have you out here looking crazy, Pretty girl. So come on, let’s get this shit started.”
When he stood his tall body up from the bar he’d been leaning on my brows immediately scrunched up. I didn’t want tobe a brat, but he was really volunteering me for this task I didn’t want to do and it irritated me.
My hands went to my hips and I tried to be the good partner and not catch an attitude the way I wanted to. “I just said—”
“You ain’t got to do shit but sit there and look cute. I got you.”
My brows shot up because he really had me fucked up if he thought I was letting him around my head. “I like this side of you and all, but what are your qualifications?”
“You forget I raised a youngin’? You think that I ain’t have to do Lyrie’s shit at some point? Fuck outta here, P. I can braid that shit up in them fancy ass patterns you be doing. I would tell you to ask your girl about me but I know I’m your side nigga.”
My hair was long forgotten and I felt like shit for how he said it. Like he was hurt but trying to make a joke out of it.
“Corey—”
“It’s good, Pretty P. I promise.”
His eyes did that thing they always did. Looked big and round and gentle: a complete dichotomy to the man that I knew he could be. But this was the City, no, the Corey that I’d fallen for. The one who saw what needed to be done and simply did it. No conformity to gender roles or false ideas of masculinity came into mind when he was in protector mode. He did whatever he needed to ensure that his people were good. Me being one of his people was a big deal to not only me, but to him, too. Us, well really me, trying to keep this under wraps wasn’t going to last much longer. He deserved far more than I was giving him.
He started digging in my head like it was a forgone conclusion that I was going to let him do what he wanted and I used my hands to stop his from digging into my scalp. It felt good as hell and that combined with how good he smelled made being the bigger person harder than it should’ve been. I turned his face so that his eyes were focused on me.
“Corey—”
“Your tone sounds too serious for you to just be saying yes or no to me washing your hair. So what’s good, baby?”
“Why are you being so patient?”
I understood that we were basically in a whole relationship without being loud about it, but I still had questions. I deserved everything that Corey gave me, I never doubted that. But there were moments where I couldn’t help but wonder why he was so okay with putting his wants to the side, despite my knowing what he really wanted.
“Patient?” I knew he thought I meant with my hair but it was more serious than that like he suspected.
“With me. It’s been years since we met. Almost two. At least one since we started to get serious.”
His lips met mine almost before I finished speaking the word serious. It wasn’t a kiss that was meant to be seductive, despite how much it turned me on. This was soft, comforting, a gentle testament that what he was about to say was something coming directly from his soul. The sweetest forewarning that I needed to brace myself for what he was about to say.
“I was serious since the day I laid eyes on you. I entertained the shit you talked about making sure I didn’t settle too quick after I got out because I knew you were coming from a place of hurt. I’m almost forty years old, Pretty P. I know my type, you been her, you gone always be her. A chick that never could be you will never turn my head from you. I ain’t a selfish man and I never have been. I go for the best the first time and when I’m blessed to receive what I prayed for I don’t fumble it. You get every side of me. The one that was on the corner in the heat having to ensure he made enough money to feed himself. The Corey who might like gunplay a little too much and the one who ain’t afraid of the challenge of moving an 18 wheeler full of bricks. You unbothered by the prison shit and encourage the CEO. Ain’t many men out here that can find them a you. So yeah,I can be patient when my future just needs time to shout about us from the rooftops. Especially when she already has me in her life, lets me in her bed and knows that I’m the keeper of her heart.”
“Even if I get fat?”
I was trying to be unserious because I knew I couldn’t stop the tears. He just smiled and pecked my lips again before reaching back and squeezing my ass.
“I wanted to fuck your mind before I ever fucked that pussy, P. Lyric talked about y’all a lot when I was up. You were the only one I wanted to know. Craved that first look. And then I got that shit and was stuck. So, you continue to feel about me the way you do and we don’t have to worry about the physical. You keep feeding my ass I might be the one out here getting fat. And ain’t nothing fat on you but this ass, baby.”
He gave it another squeeze before smacking it and the words I’d been holding back tumbled out.
