Page 17 of Sugar Baby
Cash sighed as he looked over at me. I guess the sincerity of my confession caused him to finally take me seriously. “C’mere, lil pussy cat.” I smirked as I leaned across the console of his Challenger and allowed him to kiss me. “You’ve officially reciprocated the gesture, aight?”
“With a kiss?” I confirmed through my giggle.
“Shit . . . Have you kissed you before? That’smore than enough. I’m curious about what else that mouth can do, but we got more than enough time for that.”
His compliment left me speechless, so I returned to the peaceful quiet of the ride. I wanted to tell him he could find out what else my mouth could do right now, but I just covered my cheeks as I blushed. I was used to men complimenting me, but there was something about Cash that made it feel different. That made me blush. That made me feel special.
The sun had started to set, so when we pulled up to the beach, excitement surged through me. I loved watching the sun rise and set at the beach. That was truly the best time to come. Most times I was so busy I couldn’t even appreciate living less than thirty minutes away from the beach, so this was a nice end to the day.
He demanded I wait for him to open the door of his car for me, and I did. I took his hand into mine as if it was the most natural thing to do, and we headed down the concrete walkway with no true destination in mind.
“Do you have a thing about being out in public?” I asked when his grip on my hand tightened and pulled me closer.
“I don’t like open spaces, especially when a lot of people are around. It takes more to keep an eye on everyone, you feel me?”
“That makes sense. You’re a room with four walls and two exits kind of man?”
“Exactly, and I’ma always be seated by one of the exits. If you gon’ be hanging with me, it’s some shit you gon’ have to start doing too. I need to take you to the gun range and see how good your aim really is. I ain’t saying niggas will come after you automatically because of me, but I like to be prepared for the worst case scenario.” He looked down at me. “Still wanna be my friend?”
I mirrored his smile. I wanted to tell him I wanted to bemorethan his friend. Would that have been too forward?
“Yes,” I crooned, wrapping my arm around his. “I don’t scare easily, Cassius.”
He pinched my nose. “Good.”
When we made it to Mera’s Speakeasy, I expected him to turn around because the lower level was packed. Instead, he told the bouncer, “It’s too many people in here. Clear this shit out.”
“You got it, boss man.”
I watched as the bouncer and server cleared the area. Everyone was sent upstairs to the restaurant except those that were waiting to do karaoke and at the bar. We got comfortable at a small, round, brown table by the exit door, and I just shook my head and smiled. It didn’t take long for us to look over the menu because they only served drinks and pizza at the speakeasy. If you wanted more to eat, you had to go upstairs to the actual restaurant.
I didn’t care for mixed drinks because they filled my stomach up quickly, plus they were extra sugar, and I reserved that for my sweet treats. I was cool with vodka or tequila. Cash said vodka tasted like straight up rubbing alcohol, so he got me a bottle of Clase Azul and himself a bottle of Jameson. When I told him there was no way I’d drink a whole bottle, he said that was his way of making sure we had what we needed without having to wait for the bartender or server to check on us.
“I know you’re protective, scared of bugs, and you stutter when you’re nervous,” Cash said. “Tell me more about you.”
“More like what?” I asked as he poured us both a shot.
“Everything. Start with your origin story, then your villain story if you have one.”
“Hmm . . . Like I said, I was born and raised in The Hills. My mom was my everything. My dad lives in Spain, and we’ve never really had a close relationship. I thought that would change after my mom died when I was ten but that wasn’t the case.” My mouth twisted to the side as I dried my eyes. “I moved in with my aunt and uncle, Tyreek’s parents, and they have treated me like their own ever since.”
“So Tyreek is more like a little brother to you then, huh?”
“Yep.”
“That makes things make more sense. I’m sorry to hear about your mom. I know that loss all too well. I lost my pops when I was eleven.”
“Damn. I’m sorry to hear that. No one truly understands the loss of a parent unless it’s something they’ve experienced themselves.”
Silence found us until after we took our shots.
“Why food?” he asked me with a smile.
“Well, I love baking and anything sweet. Mama had a major sweet tooth when she was pregnant with me, which was how I got my name. I’ve always loved eating and baking desserts. If I could choose, I’d have my own bakery, but I could only make so much money doing that, so I opened my own catering business. If I had it my way, my aunt Terry would run the catering business, and I’d have my own bakery. Aunt Terry taught me everything I know in the kitchen. She absolutely loves cooking, but for me, catering is solely my income. Baking is my true passion. Why food?”
“I guess the answer to why food ties into my villain story as well. Like I said, Pops died when I was eleven. Mama struggled to keep food on the table. She was awaitress and brought food home from the restaurant when she could. When she couldn’t, she went without so I could eat, or she’d send me to Rhakeem’s house so I could eat with them. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart about making sure people eat because of that. That was also why I got in the streets at thirteen. When he first died, I was too stuck in my grief to really pay attention to what was going on, you know? But when I did peep how Ma was struggling to provide for me, I accepted my new assignment.”
“Do you plan to be in the streets forever?” I asked before taking another shot.
