Page 41 of Certified Pressure 2
She pressed her lips tight, thinkin’.
I softened my tone, slid my hand down her arm. “Look, Ka’, I know shit been rocky between us. I ain’t blind. But I ain’t tryna see you like this, for real. You stronger than this. Wash ya face, redo your shit, fix your hair. You got thirty minutes. Then we out.”
She stared at me, blinked slow, then nodded. “Thirty minutes.”
I smirked, got up, and left her to it.
Downstairs, I poured a drink and sparked another blunt, lettin’ time roll. Thirty minutes later, I was suited up, chains on, wrist shinin’, smellin’ like Creed, ready to hit the night. I heard the sound of heels clickin’ across the marble, and when I turned, there she was.
Ka’mari had transformed again. She wasn’t in that fancy dress no more, but she was still killin’. She had a graphic tee tucked into grey cargos, heels laced up tight and her Birkin swingin’ off her arm. Her hair was bone straight now, sleek and sharp, makeup cleaned up, eyes still red but lookin’ more like the Ka’mari I knew—the one that always turned heads even when she swore she wasn’t tryin’.
I gave her a once-over and nodded. “That’s more like it.”
She gave me a small smile, still holdin’ back, but I saw the spark come back in her. That was enough.
“Come on,” I said, holdin’ the door. “We out.”
And just like that, we left the house together, ready to flip the night back into what it was supposed to be.
Drahma Town
While ridin’ through the city, I let the top down on the Maybach S680 Cabriolet, custom midnight blue with the peanut butter seats and the big boy Forgiatos gleamin’ under the streetlights. I had the music knockin’ loud enough for niggas on the sidewalk to look up. The blunt was lit, and the smoke curled out the top of the car like it was part of the exhaust. Ka’mari sat in the passenger seat with her hair blowin’ wild in the wind, smirkin’ at somethin’ on her phone, and it made me feel good knowin’ she wasn’t dwellin’ on that shit with Kashmere. But I ain’t gon’ lie—seein’ her ride out and chill like this with a nigga was givin’ me flashbacks.
We used to ride out like this damn near every other night, no destination, just windows down and city lights reflectin’ off her skin while I smoked and she talked her shit. That was before the bullshit, before the drama and before I even had the estate filledwith women competin’ for me. Back then it was just me, my grind, my money, and her. And sittin’ next to her now, I couldn’t even pretend it ain’t bring that feelin’ back.
I took a pull from the blunt and passed it to her. I knew she didn’t smoke, but we both knew she needed to take a few pulls to calm her damn nerves. She inhaled, coughed a lil’, then laughed and handed it back.
The city breeze was hittin’ both of us, music up, smoke in the air, and for a minute it ain’t feel like all them years of fuck shit had even happened.
By the time we pulled up to the Velvet Note, the line outside was stretchin’ down the block, niggas and bad bitches dressed in designer tryna get in. I ain’t even pull to the back, I parked right out front like the car itself was VIP. The guards seen me as soon as I stepped out, and both of ‘em walked over with smiles, dappin’ me like we was family.
“Pressure, my boy, you know you ain’t gotta wait in no line. You good money in here.”
They ain’t search me, ain’t pat me down, nothin’. They just opened the ropes and waved us in like royalty. Ka’mari linked her arm in mine while we walked inside, and I let her.
The club was already lit. Not wild turnt up, but packed full of Black faces, good energy, women smellin’ like Chanel and Baccarat, niggas in Amiris and fresh cuts. Everybody was drinkin’, vibin’ and laughin’. I scanned the crowd and instantly spotted one of my potnas near the back, standin’ up with a bottle in his hand.
“Ayo, P!” he called, grinnin’ big.
I made my way over, gave him a solid dap and a quick half-hug. His eyes shifted to Ka’mari right after. He smiled, hugged her too, then looked at me with that nosy ass grin.
“Oh yeah? This what we doin’? Y’all back together or somethin’?”
I smirked, leaned back, and let a little silence hang just to keep him wonderin’. Then I said, “Somethin’ like that.” Smooth, and simple. He laughed and shook his head.
We made our way to the VIP section. Soon as I sat down, a waitress damn near ran over with her notepad. She was young, thick, and obviously knew who I was by how wide she was smilin’.
“What can I get y’all tonight?” she asked.
I leaned back in the plush seat, my arm stretched across the top like I owned the place. “Bring us a bottle of D’USSÉ XO, chilled. Get some juices too—cranberry, lemonade, pineapple. Ice bucket, cups, all that.”
She nodded fast and disappeared. Ka’mari sat close, crossin’ her legs slow and watchin’ the room. Her perfume was creepin’ into my space, hittin’ me every time she shifted. I caught myself lookin’ at her profile, the way her lip gloss shimmered under the lights, and I had to turn my head before I let it show too much.
The bottle came back quick, sittin’ in the ice bucket with the juices and cups lined up neat. I poured Ka’mari a mix first, cranberry and a splash of lemonade, then made mine stronger with pineapple. We clinked cups like old times.
“To what?” she asked, tiltin’ her head.
I grinned. “To bein’ outside together again.”
