Page 35 of Verse Two
I grabbed the blanket from the arm of my sofa and pulled it over us as Dy rested her head on my chest. I kissed her forehead as she pressed her lips against my shoulder, and for a while, we just lay in comfortable silence.
I took that time to think about the last few hours. I couldn’t blame anybody but myself for the shit that went down with Dy and LaShontae. I had created a world where that was possible the moment I kept the extent of my past relationship from my Doll.
It was all good, though. I was going to be setting my relationship status straight with LaShontae sooner rather than later. Now that Dylan and I were locked in, I couldn’t continue to allow LaShontae to carry her ass around town claiming me. That was a no-go.
Because I was deep in my own head, I wasn’t sure how long Dy had been looking up at me, but her emotion-filled eyes let me know she had something on her mind.
“Wassup, baby?”
Exhaling, she said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about my job lately.”
I raised a brow. Oh yeah?”
Tucking her lips between her teeth, she nodded. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said quietly. “But I know I’m not happy there. I know I want more of this. More of you.”
Her confession had my insides dancing. Now that she had spoken, I realized her apprehension was about my feelings on her decision. She had to be crazy as hell if she thought her going to Paris would keep me from her, so I told her exactly that.
“More of me?” I chuckled. “You gotallof me, baby. You’re gon’ figure this job shit out soon enough, and I’ma be right witcha while you do. So don’t stress that shit, aight?”
I meant that, too. I damn sure didn’t want her to go to Paris, with her ungrateful ass boss. I wasn’t going to be the one pushing the issue, though. Dy needed to make the decision to cut ties with her boss on her own, and it needed to be because she recognized that she deserved better.
Whether she went or not, though, this thing with her and mewashappening, so the fate of our relationship needed to be the last thing she was worried about.
My words seemed to relax her a bit, because she gave me a smile.
“Promise?”
I kissed my teeth. “Hell yeah, girl. Stop playin’.”
“This is a nice home,” Dy said as we walked through my pops’ crib.
Dy had yet to make up her mind about Paris, so I was still operating like she would be leaving me in a few days. I wanted her and my pops to connect at least once before then, so I hit him up about it, and he got excited as hell, agreeing to put steaks on the grill and everything.
“Yeah, it’s aight.”
As we walked through the house, the faint sound of eighties R&B became clearer, and I realized Pop was already in the backyard. Taking Dy’s hand, I led her to the back door. As soon as I slid the door open, I dropped my head and laughed.
“Nigga, what the hell you doin’ here?”
Marcellus threw his head back, laughing. “You thought your pops was gon’ grill steaks without callin’ me? Nigga, please.” He then glanced at Dy, who was smiling from ear to ear.
“I know that ain’t my Doll right there,” Marc said with a smirk. He started toward us as my father, who was tending to the grill, set his tongs down and faced us.
I cut my eyes at Marc before dapping him up. “Hell nah, it ain’t. You can call her Dylan, nigga.”
Marc waved me off, then brought a laughing Dy in for a hug.
“What’s it been, girl? Twelve years? This nigga been sick without ya.”
Her smile grew as she replied. “Twelve years and some change. How you been, Marc?”
As he replied to Dy, my father approached us.
“What’s good, Son?” he asked and pulled me in for a hug.
“I’m chillin’, Pop. You remember Dylan, right?”
Dy turned to him with that bright ass smile, and he matched it.
