We sat in silence for a second, chewing and watching a scary movie. On screen, some white chick was wandering into a basement like she never heard of staying your ass upstairs and minding your business.
“Her ass gone,” Khalid muttered, pointing at the TV. “Anytime they move real slow with the music quiet? That’s a wrap.”
“You think she’s first?”
“Nah, they gon’ fake you out. Probably kill the husband first. They always do that sympathy kill.”
“You’re just mad ‘cause you’d be the first to die.”
He looked at me like I cussed him out. “Me? Die first? It took niggas to set me up for that to happen, baby. I ain’t goin’ out like that.”
“No, I mean, you’re all gangsta and shit,” I said, taking a spoonful of rice. “Thugs never survive the full movie. You're too loud, too confident, and you’re not following instructions.”
He laughed, deep and real. “First off, I’m not loud. Secondly, I don’t run from shit. Thirdly, did you forget I’m 'posed to still be lyin’ in a coffin right now? Don’t shit scare me, ma. If a chair slide across the room by itself, I ain’t goin’ over there talkin’ about ‘Who’s there?’ like some goofy.”
“Nope,” I said. “You’ll probably just pull out a gun and shoot the ghost.”
He shrugged. “And?”
I couldn’t stop laughing. The image of Khalid walking through a haunted house with a blunt in one hand and a Glock in the other while yelling,“Ay yo, if somethin’ in here move again, I’m lightin’ this bitch up,”was too much.
“Okay, okay,” I said, setting my plate on the coffee table. “So what would you do if you heard a voice whispering your name from the basement at 3 a.m.?”
He took a slow sip of wine, eyes never leaving mine. “I’d whisper back, ‘Bitch, I’m sleep,’ and go back to bed to beat that pussy up.”
I choked on my drink. “No, you wouldn’t.”
He grinned. “You right. I’d beat that pussy up, smoke a blunt,thengo back to sleep.”
We laughed again, both leaning back into the pillows. The vibe was ridiculous in the best way. And somewhere between thejokes and the food and the flickering candlelight, I caught myself staring at Khalid.
Not just at his body, or his face, or the way he ate. But just… him. His presence. His energy. His voice. The way he could go from fucking me into the mattress like he was really trying to make me fall in love to cracking jokes about dying first in a horror movie. He was fun, comfortable, solid, and realer than any man I’d met above ground. Tonight felt like something I didn’t know I needed.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” he asked, cutting into my thoughts.
I blinked. “Like what?”
He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and leaned in just a little. “Like you tryna make me stay past midnight.”
I bit my lip, smiling despite myself. “I’m just a little lit. Relax.”
He chuckled. “Mmhm. That wine hittin’, huh?”
I nodded. “That and this bomb ass Chinese food. You killed your plate.”
“I really did. No crumbs left behind.”
He reached over, pulled me into his lap, and kissed the side of my neck. His hand slid to my thigh, slow and familiar. If this were a spell, I didn’t want to break it. Just when I thought the night couldn’t get any better—just when I was leaning into that soft, sweet spot between full and high and wrapped in a demon’s arms like it was a normal Friday—my phone started ringing.
Khalid leaned forward and looked at it. “That better not be another nigga,” his voice low against my ear.
I turned to grab the phone off the coffee table and rolled my eyes.
“Shhh,” I whispered, waving Khalid off with one hand as I answered. “Hello?”
“Bitch, you actually answered! What you doing up so early?”
I sat up a little, trying to sound normal. “What you mean?”