Page 10 of B.D.E
“I—Who are you?”
Ghost stepped out the shadows slowly as his eyes remained locked on Jesse.
“The last muthafucka you gon’ see if I catch you looking at anything other than her face,” his voice dropped lower. “And you don’t need to know my name, just know she ain’t yours to be looking at,” he said through gritted teeth.
Something about the way he said it made my skin prickle. I should’ve been pissed at him for saying anything to Jesse because he was harmless and one of my best customers, but I wasn’t. No one had ever stood up for me like that except for my father. I could tell he really meant what he said to Jesse, and I was… God help me, I was turned on. Jesse between me and Ghost like I was supposed to explain what the hell was going on, but I was too shocked to even form the words.
“Alright, damn,” Jesse uttered throwing his hands up. “I didn’t mean anything by it. My bad Ivy.”
He backed away and turned to leave while mumbling something under his breath that he dared not to say to Ghost’s face. I stood still, in silence, staring at the man who scared me and thrilled me in the same breath. Ghost didn’t look at me right away, just stared at the front door and Jesse had disappeared through as his jaw twitched.
After a few seconds of deadly silence, he turned his head and locked eyes with me.
“You just let muthafuckas come in here fucking with you like that, Specs? That nigga was undressing you with his beaty asseyes.” The words weren’t loud, but they held weight, and I could hear the anger brewing in his voice.
“I can handle Jesse,” I said, quieter than I meant to. “He harmless,” I shrugged, reaching for the cleaning rag and pretending to wipe down the counter. Anything to keep my eyes off him right now.
He narrowed his eyes. “Nah,” he said, stepping forward. “That nigga don’t even know what you are. He think he got access to you because you allow him to come in here doing that shit.”
My breath got caught in my throat when he moved around the counter. He didn’t stop until he was standing close enough for me to smell his minty breath.
“What I am?” I echoed.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, then lower. He tilted his head like he was studying me.
“You’re pure as fuck and you beautiful Specs, and I don’t even think you realize how much sex appeal you got. The kind that make dumb niggas like that think they can fuck with you,” he said, his voice low and deep, sending a tingling sensation past my stomach. “But they don’t see what’s underneath all that shit.”
“And you do?”
He stepped closer, leaving nothing but heat between us.
“I feel that shit.”
I didn’t know if I wanted to step back or lean in and taste his plump, sinful lips that looked way too damn good for my peace of mind. I had never kissed a man before, but in that moment, he made me want to break every rule I’d ever made. I wanted to suck on his lips and let him devour mine.
Shoot Ivy, get your head straight!
He raised his hand up as his fingers brushed a curl off my cheek. Then he dipped low and close to my ear.
“Next time a nigga try you like that, you better check they ass Specs, cause if you don’t I promise I will and that shit won’t be pretty. Your whole little bookstore will be decorated in their blood.”
He straightened as his eyes skimmed mine for a few seconds longer then, just like that, he walked away. Back towards the stairs, back into the shadows like he hadn’t just turned my whole insides upside down. I stood there, thinking about how I should’ve run behind him and cursed his ass out for messing with my customers and I planned on giving him a peace of my mind about it later.
BUZZ
I pulled my phone out of the apron pocket and saw that I had a message from Tori.
Tori: Bout to slide thru with those books I borrowed. You better have cinnamon rolls or I’m rioting!
Panic set in as I remember that nobody knew Ghost was here. I hadn’t told Tori anything and I wasn’t ready to yet. I said a quick prayer that Ghost wouldn’t make another off-the-wall appearance while she was here and then busied myself with tidying up the café to keep my anxiety from spiraling.
I had just finished going over the kitchen floor with the swifter, when I heard the bell above the door jingling again.
“Smells good as fuck in here friend,” came the loud, familiar voice I’d grown to love. “You got my cinnamon roll or nah?”
“Tori,” I sighed as I rounded the counter to greet my best friend.
She walked in like she owned the place with her burgundy curls, bouncing oversized sunglasses still on despite the cloudy morning and her gold hoops swinging. She was wearing acropped graphic tee that read “Bad Decisions Build Character” and biker shorts that left very little to the imagination. We embraced each other then I stepped back, eyeing the too little shorts she was wearing with a raised brow.
