Page 1 of Not A Homie, Lover Or Friend
Ismiled as I glanced down at my text. I hopped up, grabbed my purse, and left Foe’s. It was perfect timing as he and Harvey were in the bedroom doing God knows what. I rushed down the stairs, then out of the house to Monfua, who was waiting on his bike right outside. His two long braids hung from his helmet as he waited for me to approach him. He hit the kickstand, got off, removed his helmet, and slid it on my head. He gently took my hand and helped me before he got on and took off.
My arms wrapped tightly around him as he picked up speed by the second. Monfua was fine, long hair, bomb ass smile, body like a God, tall, and skin that the sun had kissed a million times. He was different than the guys I dealt with back at school. He was on the prettier side. I was used to men like my brother or older. Rough, street, gangsta, and hood. He didn’t seem like any of those things. I wondered how he had gotten mixed up with the Zoo. However, tonight when he checked Prentice, it made me look at him differently.
The night was good as we vibed at Diamond’s. When Prentice called himself trying to play the big brother, I went along with it to avoid confrontation, but the truth is, I’m grown. I have two years on Myles, and he was trying to control what I could and couldn’t do, which wasn’t an option. Here I was on the back of a bike, riding with a dude who hung out with my brother. I had always vowed not to cross that line with his friends, but this was different. Maybe it was because I knew it would piss my brother off. To me, it was payback for him trying to play daddy. Either way, I was having fun.
Monfua flew through the city until we ended up at some place called Layoni’s Bar & Grill, not too far from Diamond’s. When we entered the bar, I noticed there wasn’t anyone else inside. I pulled at his hand, “They’re about to close.”
He turned to look at me. “No, they’re not.”
“Monfua, nobody is in here but me and you.”
He ignored what I saw as he set the helmet on the bar counter and walked toward the back. I glanced around at the island-style bar, from the tropical-like décor to the table settings. There was subtle music playing, which sounded like reggae. Moments later, Monfua came from the back, hopped over the bar counter, and smiled. “You want a drink?”
I tossed my hands on my hips, “Nigga you don’t own the place, get from over there before we get kicked out.”
“No,” he said as he turned and glanced at the assorted liquors. “You don’t look like a bottom shelf girl, but you're damn sure ain’t a top shelf one either. I would say you like mixed drinks, not too sweet but not too strong,” he paused as he glanced over his shoulder.
My eyes narrowed in on him as I smacked my lips, “You don’t know me.”
“I don’t, but what I do know is liquor and people. I’ve been doing this for a long time, Sukalati.”
“Sukalati? Who the hell is that?”
He finally turned around with a bottle of tequila that he spun in his hand like a professional. He began pouring and mixing. The way Monfua gripped the shaker and shook it mesmerized me. His tongue ran over his lips as he began to pour the mixed drink into the glass. The drink started blue and turned orange. My eyes grew wide in excitement. “Nice.”
“I know. Sukalati is my name for you. What, you don’t like it?”
I giggled. “No, it’s ugly,” I lied.
I thought it was cute, but I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want him to think I was crushing on him like some schoolgirl. I’ve been there before, and falling into the trap cost me. It cost me so much that an invitation was about to turn into a permanent stay. He slid the drink over to me and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try it.”
I picked up the chilled glass and placed it to my lips. The smell was amazing, fruity with a hint of lime. I took a swig and tried to play it off like the drink was mediocre, but the shit tasted so good. “It’s ok.” I shrugged.
He raised his brow. “Funny, you think it’s ok, but it’s one of the house favorites.”
“Well, maybe they don’t want the owner to feel bad.”
“The owner doesn’t give a shit.”
My face balled up. “How do you know?”
He poured him a shot and took it back. “Because—”
“Because I’m the owner,” A lady said as she came from the back.
She was beautiful. She was tall, with russet brown skin, shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, and a thick build. I took another swig of the drink as she began to walk closer to me. She cut her eyes at Monfua, “Who’s the girl?” she asked, pointing at me.
I didn’t know who this lady was, but if she tried to do something, we were going to be thumping all over this place. Monfua poured himself another shot and took it back, “A friend. Sukalati, this is my mother, the owner, Shaneice.”
His mother is black, got it.I quickly picked up the glass and chugged down the drink. My fingertips slid the glass back toward him, “Another one, please.”
I wasn’t in the position to meet anyone’s mother, but here we were. When she stepped fully into the light, all her beauty shone through. Monfua got some of his looks from her, but now I was curious what his daddy looked like.
“You don’t like the house drink?” she asked.
“It’s, it’s ok.”
She looked at Monfua, “Finally, someone who agrees with me.” She laughed.
