Chocolate City

Chapter 5: Baby Boy

Khyree

"You from Atl?" I asked Rafael, wiping sweat from my forehead.

"Grady baby, Atlanta born and bred. Do ten reps on your the other side." He replied, standing over me.

"Aight, but get on this side of me." I grabbed a barbell.

"Why?"

"Cause I don't like for no niggas to be standing behind me." I started on my reps.

He chuckled, "Whatever man."

Rafael had been training me for weeks to get more fit for these stripping gigs. He was also cool as fuck, so we kicked it outside the gym on occasion.

"You working tonight?" I asked as we got ready to head out.

"Nah man, I'm gonna take my luh' baby out tonight for some special."

"I ain't know you had a girl."

"Now you do." He unlocked the door to a 2016 BMW.

"This all you?" I stood back to get a good look, glad that I hadn't brought my pathetic ass Pacer.

"This all me player. Keep working on them string beans you call arms, and you might get here one day."

The thought of driving luxury cars and indulging in bad bitches had my mind fucked up as I walked back home. My pacer was in front of the house. Something on the back tire caught my peripheral and I groaned, seeing that it was a boot.

I took the stairs two at a time and unlocked the door to the house.

"Ma! Yo Ma, why you let them boot my car for?!" I yelled.

I heard laughing coming from the kitchen and figured it was Ma and her nosy ass friend, Ms. Loretta. She came from the kitchen.

"Boy I know you not walking' in my house raising your voice. Don't think you too grown to get whooped cause you got my hand itchin' just thinkin' bout it." She shot me a warning glare.

"My car got a boot on it." I stated, ignoring everything else she said.

"Why is that my damn problem?" She snapped. "You gonna need to grow up one of these days and get the fuck out my house cause I swear-"

She stopped herself momentarily and took a deep breath. "Someone's here for you in the kitchen, she said she found your driver's license."

I smacked my lips, but quietly so momma couldn't here. I walked in the kitchen and found the same lil' shawty from the strip club weeks ago. Her hair was in a bun, baby hair slicked, and gloss on her lips. She had on a pink tracksuit that covered most of her thin frame, but it was still enough to get a tent forming in my basketball shorts.

I had to admit she was fine as hell, but that ain't stop my attitude from showing up.

"What you want?" I sneered, "And why you in my house?"

I felt a pop to the back of my neck, "Don't listen to him baby girl, that boy don't pay the rent here." Momma said.

She laughed and my cheeks started heating up.

"I can't believe I didn't ask, you want something to drink? We have grape juice."

"Yeah that's-"

"That's Sasha grape juice, Ma" I cut her off.

"Sasha's not here, and if she was I'm sure she wouldn't mind. She's a sweet little thing, unlike her rude ass father." She mouthed 'be nice' to me and went to pour the juice.