𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲
❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞
𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲
𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖊𝖝𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖞, as he gazed towards Val's apartment building. He was sat in the car with Urban in the driver's seat, wearing an impatient expression. "Bro, are you gon' get out or not? Wild Wings closes in twenty minutes, so... speeding yo' ass up would be good." he thinly smiled, Jack rolled his eyes.
"Get me my usual," he muttered in return, Urban scoffed.
"Knowing Val, she's gonna feed you, but you gon' pay me back for it anyway." he retorted, Jack sucked his teeth at his best friend, fishing into his pocket for a $20 bill which Urban gladly snatched from his grasp. "Sweet, now go get your girl. I've now only got eighteen minutes to get downtown." He shooed Jack out of the car and sent him a wave, as he sped off down the street.
Making his way up to her apartment, he mustered up all the courage he had—he couldn't be shaking the way he was earlier. He knocked on her door and she opened it with a soft grin on her plump lips. Her hair was now wrapped up in a scarf and she'd dressed down into light loungewear. "Sorry, I can only handle looking good for a lil' while." she chuckled. He walked in, with old habits making him remove his trainers at the door, and followed her to the couch.
"Don't let me stop you from being comfortable, you look good to me either way." he shrugged. She smiled gratefully once he relaxed into his seat.
"'Ight, I want you to try something," Jack's brows furrowed, remembering how the last time she said that she was choking him during sex. "It ain't nothin' wild, so fix yo' face. I just want you try my cocktail."
"Since when did you start mixing drinks?"
"Picked up the hobby a while ago." she answered, as she walked off into the kitchen, Jack's eyes followed, fixated on how her camisole and shorts hugged her body. She returned with two tall cocktail glasses, handing him one as she sat down. "You're either gonna drink it all, or spit that bitch out. I'll take either."
At the sound of that, he took a light sip, as she did also. The strong wave of poignant vodka made his eyes go wide, but he swallowed it down quickly before it burned his throat. "Goddamn," he strained. "Do you actually have a mixer in this, or is it straight spirit wit' a fuckin' olive in it?" His reaction made her break into bouts of laughter. "You forgot the mixer, didn't you?" he tilted his head. Val covered her face shamefully, as she giggled. "In the nicest way possible, baby, this shit is straight ass."
Val could barely catch her breath, "You crushin' my career on my first drink?"
"Hate to break it to ya', Val," he chuckled himself.
"Damn. My boyfriend is about to be so disappointed in me," she scoffed, taking the glass from him and standing. "You want an ale or somethin', then?" she questioned, but Jack had pulled a face once again.
"You got a man?"
By her reaction, it was pretty obvious to him that she didn't actually want him to be aware of the fact, as though she'd slipped up. She tentatively nodded, her eyes avoiding his that stared up at her. "Yeah, he's a mixologist." she answered awkwardly.
Jack didn't exactly seem to have a legible emotion on his face, as he softly smiled. "I'm happy for you." She thinly returned the smile, as the tension began to grow within the silence.
"So, is ale okay?" she eased. He nodded promptly, and she sped off to the kitchen.
He wasn't happy at all.
She returned with cold bottles for the both of them, and they talked about mundane topics around each other's lives. Jack was trying his hardest to ignore the heavy weight against this chest, as reality gradually began to replace the smoky memories he had with her.
"So, you're gonna be here for a long time then?" he leaned his head back on the couch, watching her as she sat cross-legged.
"Yeah, I ain't got a reason to leave no more. After my two year course at the dance school in Washington, I got a really good job as a head choreographer at a school 'round the damn corner. It's good, I'm really comfortable at twenty-four, so I'm happy." she explained. "What about you? You're skyrocketing right now."
"I'm used to Atlanta now, the label is here and they got good food, so Urb and I are doin' pretty okay. We've got my tour in the works right now and some international shows coming up; some music videos too and I want you to be my dancer, like it used to be." She smiled widely at the sound of that, looking down at her baby pink nails.
"You just think about me in every situation you find yourself in, do you?" she scoffed.
"I'on think there's ever a moment where I ain't thinking about you." he muttered, hesitating to touch her thigh and deciding against it. "You a good dancer too, can't let such talent go to waste." he continued, trying to save himself from the slip of his exposed thoughts.
"You still a goddamn smooth-talker," she inwardly laughed, pulling herself onto her feet. She could feel herself being reeled back in—his ocean eyes seemed to always have that effect on her alongside his mellow voice.
"I ain't changed that much in three years." he replied, licking his lips as his attention inadvertently reverted back to inspecting her smooth thighs that he would leave wet kisses along.
She took the empty bottle from him and asked, "You hungry?" His face lit up.
"Ooh, you asking the right questions now," he giddily sat up.
Val laughed, "Come on, then," she ushered him into the kitchen. Knowing that Urban had ordered a whole meal for him beforehand, he still skipped cheerfully behind her.