Page 25 of Hellcat Barbies: Imani
“I think that’s what she said but she sounds happy so, as long as she is, I am. But, that’s not why she called.” He shifts in his seat and right when he starts to talk, our server returns with my water and his Heineken.
“Your to-go order should be out in fifteen,” she informs him before walking off.
When she leaves, I get right back to our convo and ask, “Why did Vee Vee call?”
“You ain’t gone believe this shit. Makenna popped up at my mom’s; she was looking for you,” he says.
“Why?” I genuinely ask. Makenna fell back from me almost seven years ago, when I needed her the most. The feds came and she left our relationship. She disappeared on me and I pushed her out of my mind.So, what the fuck does she want now?
“I don’t know but you know how yo’ aunt is. She told Makenna that you were out, doing good, and living here now.”
“Yo’ momma talk too damn much,” I admit.
“Blood is the only thing keeping yo ass upright right now,” he warns lightheartedly.
“Blood and these hands. Nigga, you couldn’t fuck with me when we were kids and you damn sho’ can’t fuck with me now,” I assure him and we both laugh. “Plus, you know I’m speaking facts about auntie.”
“I know. She’s worst than a reporter. I already checked her too.”
“It’s cool. Makenna can look me up all she wants, I don’t have shit for her, no time and no energy. There’s only one woman on my mind right now and she has all my damn attention. Real shit.”
“Good for you,” he says and I notice the smug look on his face. I know my cousin and when he has that look, he’s about to say some slick shit. “Is she fine though? Cornbread or dressing thick?”
“Nigga, what the fuck is that?”
“Cornbread is thick and has just the right amount of ingredients like ol’ girl, our server. But dressing thick, that’s better. It’s thick with all the extra that makes it better, like my baby, Presha. She’s that good ass dressing thick, extra in all the right places,” he says and I shake my head.
“I swear. You don’t have no sense.”
“Just answer the damn question.”
“She’s perfect,” is all I say. That nigga will just have to see when he meets her.
We finish up our food and drinks, pay and tip, then leave. Before heading to Imani’s, I stop off at an ATM and get some cash. I’m pulling up to her place at fifteen till eight. Since we are taking her ride, I park on the street so I don’t block her in then get out.
When I get ready to ring her doorbell, she opens the door and I swear all the air leaves my lungs. She looks good as hell in body hugging, black leather-looking pants, a black graphic shirt with a picture of 2Pac on it, and black boots.
“Are you ready? Or do you need to come in?” she asks with a smile.
“I’m ready but damn. You look too good for us to be going any damn were. Lett’s just Netflix and fuck.”
“I think it’s chill.”
“Nah. Looking like this,” I say then step into her space. “I said the right thing; it’s definitely fuck.” My arms wrap around her waist then I lean in close to her ear, “Don’t you want me?”
She twists her neck then kisses my cheek. “I want you and I’ll have you later when you bring me back home. It took me almost fifteen minutes to jump in and squeeze into these damn jeans. You are taking me out as planned.” She playfully pushes my chest, steps back, then smirks, “I’m ready.”
I concede because I think she’s really going to like where we’re going. So, I step back to her, kiss her lips, then hold the door for her. She walks to her kitchen, kills the lights, then turns on the Blak-people night light on the stove. After she grabs her little purse, we leave her crib and hop in her ride.
Under normal circumstances, I always drive, especially with my lady, but for her, my lady driver, I fallback and let her do her thing. As she drives, I lead her right outside of town to Beacon Road. I didn’t know exactly where the race was been held but when the traffic starts to slow then comes to a stop, I realize, that we are here.
“Pull over right here,” I direct and she does.
Her eyes scan the cars and motorcycles parked on both sides of the street then she looks at me. “What’s going on?” she asks with a spark of excitement all over her beautiful face.
“They’re racing tonight,” I tell her. “I thought you might like it.”
“Like! I love it and I want to race. Let’s go see what’s up?” Excited, she hops out before I can come open her door. With a smile, I just shake my head then get out too. When I walk over to her, she grabs my hand. “We need to see who’s running the race.”
