Page 3 of The Love Dealer

“If you don’t stop. We agreed we were co-parenting and that’s it.”

“You wasn’t saying that when you were cumming on my dick.”

“And when was the last time I did that?”

“Months, but that’s your fault.”

Scoffing, I sat up in my seat. A part of me felt this conversation was about to take a turn, but I was curious how he could pin us not having sex lately on me.

“How is it my fault, Nick?”

His voice lowered when he asked, “You really wanna go there, Bre?”

I shrugged with a shake of my head. “It feels like we’re already there.”

“Are you guys ready to order?”

My body relaxed at the sound of our waitress. Sitting back in my seat, I grabbed my phone as Nick ordered his food. As far as I was concerned, our conversation was over… and our night could be over, too.

two

Alonso “Zo” Jackson

My mouth wateredat the sight of the videos Bre posted on her Facebook story. She was always cooking a meal that looked good as hell. This evening, it was smothered chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, and broccoli. I couldn’t recall the last time my girl, Reka, cooked me a home-cooked meal. Hell, if it wasn’t for me, she would stay buying our kids fast food. And it was crazy because Reka could throw down in the kitchen. Her ass was just spoiled and lazy and didn’t do it because she didn’t want to. She didn’t clean, either.

I probably sound like a nigga in need of a mama instead of a woman, but that wasn’t the case. I had no problem doing anything for myself, but I expected my relationship to be one of reciprocity. Reka didn’t have to work because I worked a factory job and had my own HVAC business. I also had a few rental properties in the hood and I used that money to travel and blow.

Reka was home all damn day. Until the kids got out of school, she didn’t have any other responsibilities. One would think she would take that time to cook, clean, and make our house a home. Instead, she spent it lounging around or spending my money with her ratchet ass friends. At first, I let the shit slide, but it was starting to get played out now. The last thing I wanted to do after working literally all damn day was come home and have to clean or fix myself something to eat. On the off chance Reka did cook, she fixed enough for herself. Let her tell it, the kids had breakfast and lunch at school, so all they needed was dinner when they got home.

Just thinking about it had my nostrils flaring as I tried not to get irritated. I sent Bre a quick message, telling her to save me a plate before setting my phone on the coffee table and going to the kitchen where my mama was. She volunteered to keep our kids that night so we could go out since she had her other grandkids, and I told her that wasn’t necessary. Me and Reka went out for appearances occasionally, but we were just roommates who fucked from time to time at this point.

I had a bad ass habit of comparing Reka and every other woman I’d dealt with over the years to Bre, and they never could compare. Letting Sabrina Simmons go right after my twentieth birthday was the worst romantic mistake I’d ever made. Though my baby mamas all had given me hell in different ways, I didn’t regret any of them because I loved my kids. But when it came to my heart, it still belonged to Bre.

“What you got goin’, ol’ lady?” I asked, looking over my mom’s shoulder as she stirred something in a pot.

“Just getting some chicken on. I’m going to make some chicken salad for tonight and use the broth tomorrow for something else. You ain’t ate dinner yet?”

“Nah. I guess me and Reka gon’ grab something when we head out.”

“What else y’all doing tonight?”

Shrugging, I leaned against the counter next to the stove so I could look into her eyes. Eye contact was important to me. Her husband, my stepfather, instilled that respect in me and my two brothers as soon as he came into the family. I’d seen my birth father only a handful of times and wasn’t too messed up about it because George fathered all of us the same. If anything came from not having my father around, it was the desire to make sure I did all I could to be in my kids’ lives.

My oldest daughter, her mom was in prison, so I had full custody of her.

My middle child, his mom signed over her rights to him, so I had full custody of him.

And my baby girl, the daughter I had with Reka, we shared custody of her.

Reka might not have been a good girlfriend, but she was a damn good mother. She took care of them even if she didn’t show her care and love for me. They all called her mama, and I’d never take that from her. I guess that’s why I stayed with her ass, even though I didn’t want to be with her. Love I could do without, but respect and a good influence for my kids? Both were things I demanded and she provided effortlessly.

“I don’t know, Ma. She wanna go to a party, but you know I’m getting too old for that shit.”

She chuckled. “Boy, you ain’t but thirty-three. I feel you, though. These young folks are something serious these days. You won’t catch me at nobody’s club or house party unless I know who all gon’ be there and that they got some damn sense.”

“Right,” I agreed, heading over to the refrigerator to grab a beer. “You gon’ have enough chicken salad for the kids, or do you want me to order them something real quick?”

“Yeah, but George is gonna put some meat and veggies on the grill, so they can have that.”

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