Page 11 of Love's Most Wanted
“This my brother Unique. Unique, this is Connor. He takes care of all that frilly, romantic shit in case you need it since you got two of ’em.”
I chuckled disingenuously, shaking Connor’s hand as I sat next to Asif, who was seated across from Connor.
For the next half an hour, Connor and Asif discussed floral arrangements, desserts, and all kinds of shit. I couldn’t remember everything because I’d zoned out, thinking about Kabrina like I had been since the night in Vegas and how I didn’t have her fucking back.
It seemed like forever before Asif and Connor stood to shake hands, and Asif led the nigga out. He returned shortly after, sitting in the seat Connor had been in across from me.
“I ain’t miss how you got two set ups and three flower arrangements, nigga. Who the side?” I jested, though I was in fact curious.
“Anastazia, Sophie got the small one, and then Mrs. Chase.” He listed.
“Sophie? And you fucking moms too?” I cackled when he shot me a look.
“Nah, muthafucka, but she single and ain’t had a Valentine in years since her husband passed.” He leaned back into the couch. “As for Sophie, I’m her father. I gotta show her how shit is done. Plus, she won’t have no type of Valentine for at least forty years, nigga.”
We both laughed at that last line as I nodded, commending him for getting something for Mrs. Chase.
“I feel it. I guess you are a good nigga.”
“Only to them three.” He took a sip of his water bottle. “So what’s so important?”
“You remember the girl from the yacht? The one whose nigga you made jump off?”
“Yep.”
“I know you not really into social media and shit, so you probably ain’t see that old boy got exposed. His wife showed up at the season renewal celebration and…” I threw my hands up and sighed, “she found out the nigga was married.”
“Good,” Asif replied, “but what this shit got to do with either of us?”
“I’m getting to that, muthafucka.”
“Ain’t my fault you always take fucking forever to get to the point.”
“Anyway,” I waved him off, “she asked me if I knew about him having a wife, and I kept it real. Now she kind of pissed at a nigga. She said she forgave me, but I could tell it wasn’t no real forgiveness. It was like some, ‘here, nigga,’ forgiveness.”
I hadn’t decided if I wanted to tell him how the rest of that damn night went just yet.
Asif chuckled and sat up some before frowning in confusion. “Why you even care? You got two whole girlfriends, yet you worried about what she think and how she feel.”
“I mean, yeah, but she and I were kind of cool, and in hindsight, I realize it was fucked up.”
“Why you ain’t tell her?”
Shrugging, I glanced off and then said, “Felt like it wasn’t my place. You know niggas got a nigga code, and that’s some bitch shit to go running and telling another nigga’s woman about what he doing.”
“I get that.” He nodded. “You ever tried to talk some sense into that weird ass nigga?”
I snickered subtly at the shot Asif threw at AJ and nodded.
“Yeah, but not like I would do a nigga that was actually my homie or brother. It was in the same manner y’all did on the boat. Like a warning here and there but not shit else.”
“That’s why we don’t kick it with light-skinned niggas.” Asif shook his head.
We chuckled before I replied, “You right. My first and last fucking time.”
“But nigga, if you care that much, pull up on her and make sure she understand you really sorry ’bout that shit. Let her get out whatever the fuck she need to say and don’t argue with her. Let her speak and then apologize again.”
“I can do that, but if she go too far, I’m gon’ light her ass up.”
