The Bad Boy vs The Bad Girl

Chapter 7: Jazz Club Feelings

"Damn, we clean up nicely."

I smirked, dapping up Grant in the parking lot. "I see you brought out the Scottish pants."

He stepped back, gesturing to his legs and the green plaid pants he just had to buy, good thing he's a surgeon, I would never drop a thousand on them shits. "I swear, I'm half Irish nigga." He shrugged, popping the color to his white button up, his gold chain sitting pretty.

I had on my casually classy fit, black dress pants, a black short sleeve button up, my silver chain and watch and my red velvet loafers, I felt fly as fuck. Too bad Taryn banned me from talking to them, I would've most definitely brought out the grill, Ebony went nuts for that shit.

Grant and I walked into the dimly lit club, tables and little seating areas were scattered about, a stage right across from the entrance. A pretty brown thing sat on the stool, plucking away at a guitar while she hummed, the whole place felt cozy.

"I'm a go open a tab," Grant said, tapping my arm before heading to the bar which was on the right side of the place.

I slipped my hand in my pocket, walking towards the left, simultaneously looking for a table and the girls. I found a small round in kind of off in the corner, which was perfect, it gave me a clear view of the door and the stage. As far as I could tell, Taryn and then haven't gotten here yet.

I checked my phone, not expecting much because I hadn't heard from Taryn since she sent me the address. I massaged my jaw, it had been tight for the past week, this shit was getting out of hand.

The girl on stage hit a few more stings and then she stood, thanking everyone before walking off. A corky white couple entered hand and hand, the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, he placed his hand on her lower back.

"Drink this, you look like you're about to kill everyone in this bitch." Grant told me, blocking my view of the couple, he set a beer down in front of me.

I took it as he took his seat, I lost the couple.

"So why are we here?" He asked after some moments, the next act walking out on stage.

I sucked my teeth, bringing the mug to my mouth, "It's apart of the plan."

"The baby mama plan?"

"Would you shut the fuck up?" I snapped, "Damn," I took a sip.

"Oh fuck no," Grant set his beer down, "Get our tour damn feelings nigga. I'm not spending the night with you and your moody ass. Not again."

I rolled my eyes, "I told you to never mention the ninja turtles again and what did you do? You put on your fucking ninja turtle onsie-"

"-It was a joke-"

"-Not to fucking me!" I exclaimed, gaining the attention of the people around us, I raised a hand in apology before cutting my eyes to Grant. He was trying so damn hard not to laugh, I pinched my lips, "It's not funny."

"Nah, it's fucking hilarious," He chuckled, "You were what? Thirteen?"

"Nigga I will beat your ass." He held his hands up, his eyes still twinkling, I couldn't help but crack a smile, "Fuck, alright. Yes, this is apart of the baby mama plan, I'm playing the role of a sugarless sugar daddy tonight."

"That's tough," Grant muttered and then he whistled lowly, "Maybe one of them can give you something sweet." He smirked, pointing towards the entrance.

When I looked over I damn near choked.

"Exactly, they are something else."

"Nah nigga, that's Ebony and her friends," I snapped, smacking his arm.