SERVICE

Chapter 8

M i r a c l e

I woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times, trying to get my vision straight, before I pulled the covers back and slipped my body out of the bed.

I walked down the hallway,pulling my hair into a bun, as I followed the scent of frying bacon. "Yo ass finally up huh?" I smacked my lips together once I walked into the kitchen, seeing Jarod at the stove, cooking.

"Damn, I just stepped foot into the kitchen, and your back is turned, how's you know I was in here?" He looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Because, I know the sound of your footsteps, and you walk heavy." I smirked and rolled my eyes.

I walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton on orange juice. "Not to say that I don't appreciate it, but why you up in here cooking like this is your place??" He grabbed his fork and flipped a few pieced of bacon in the skillet.

"I know you like to eat when you wake up, and shit after what we did last night, I gotta put something in my stomach." I ignored his last comment and grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet. "Well thank you." I said sarcastically.

"And." He started. "I heard you had a long day yesterday with that Trevor nigga, so I was tryna held you relax." I sat down at the table and poured two glasses of orange juice. "His name is Tremaine."

"Whatever, look, you want this food or nah?" I nodded. "Can you make my plate please?" He sucked his teeth and turned off the stove. "This yo house right? Make yo own." He piled some food on his plate, and took a seat beside me at the table.

I looked down at his plate, and then up at his face. "Seriously? Your not gunna make a plate for me?" He ignored me and started to cut up his eggs. "Please Rod." I ran my hand along his bare chest as he ate. He shrugged me off and continued to eat.

"Fine, I'll get my own then." I quickly stood up from my seat and was just about to walk away from the table, when I felt his hands wrap around my waist and pull me back down on his lap.

"I was just fuckin with you, you can have this plate." He smiled and kissed my cheek. "That's what I thought nigga." I snatched the fork out of his hands and started to dig in.

"Your food's getting better." I said, in between bites. "I know, bitches love a nigga who can cook, so I gotta be on my chef boyarde shit every now and then." I frowned. "Right."

He wrapped one of his arms around my waist and watched me as I ate. "So wassup with that case you on? You gettin the job done?" I looked at him and lifted a brow. "Of course Im getting my job done, I've already got some money back." He lifted both of his brows up, shocked.

"Forreal?" I nodded. "And how you did that?" I took a sip of my orange juice and smirked. "That's for me to know, you weren't underestimating me were you?" He shook his head.

"Nah, never." I smiled. "Good." I turned back to my plate and continued eating.

".....You so beatiful." I scrunched my face up and turned back to him. "Excuse me?" He smirked "I said you beautiful Mimi." I paused before turning to him. "What do you want?" He chuckled as he pushed his dreads back, staring at me. "Why I gotta want something?"

"Because." I started. "You only start with that beautiful shit when you want something, so what is it??" I placed my fork down and looked at him. "Damn, that's how you feel? A nigga can't pay you a compliment without you thinking he want something in return?" I nodded.

"A nigga? Yes, you? No." He sucked his teeth. "Whatever, Ion even want nothing you from you, I just wanted to tell you that your beautiful....and you gotta fat ass too." I rolled my eyes and began eating my food again.