Chapter Two
"Thug love"
'You bein' bad is just a bonus, look how beautiful your soul is'
— Nas
Kauner Giselle Wright
"I can't believe you let that man walk away from you and you didn't get his number or nothing!" Milan says, going on about that nigga from outside the club for the hundredth time in the last forty-five minutes. "I'm really starting to question if you still like dick or not."
"Bitch I'm the catch, if anything he should've asked me for my number." I assure her, taking a sip of my orange juice from the Waffle House to-go cup I had since I refused to put my lips on any of their cups or eating utensils.
"Why? So you could tell him no too?" She rolls her eyes at me before looking around the somewhat empty restaurant. "Wit'cho mean ass. That man was fine and he was paid. Bitch who the fuck you know just casually walking around Miami with a Richard Mille on?"
"Girl why you going to bat for this man?" I chuckle, tapping my acrylic nails on the table in front of my plate of hash browns that I'd barely touched. "And you know just like I know that a nigga with money ain't good for shit but tricking off. Besides, the chances of us ever running into those niggas again are slim to none."
After we got picked up from the club, the driver dropped us off back at the hotel before me and Milan decided we wanted Waffle House. Unfortunately this trip wasn't all fun and no work for Ky.
Not only did he have a successful up and coming luxury streetwear brand but he also pulled a few pieces here and there and styled a couple of the Instagram girls on the side. Since he had an early morning he decided to stay behind and get some rest.
"Girl don't say that. Did you see his homeboy? He was fine as fuck."
"Please don't tell me you're talking about that drunk ass nigga who grabbed my arm when we walked in the club." I roll my eyes at her. "Your taste is very.. questionable."
"Bitch I have good taste, I just like my niggas a lil' rough around the edges!" She waves me off. "But no! He was cute and everything but I can't stand no nigga that can't handle his liquor. That shit is an immediate turn off for me. There was another one getting in the car with him before we pulled off. And that muthafucka' was fine!"
"Wait I'm confused.. didn't you and Trent just get back together or was I seeing shit?"
Milan and Trent have been off and on, hot and cold since our junior year of high school. It's like he wants all the benefits of having Mil as his girlfriend without actually having her as his girl. In a way, twenty thousand dollar shopping sprees and trips around the globe had my girl stuck in a chokehold because no matter how sick of his shit she got, she would never really leave him alone. Even when she did her own dirt on the side.
I've literally known Milan my entire life. Our dad's came up together in New York and they were like brothers. Our moms met through their men and they were pretty tight too. We've lived down the street from each other, attended the same schools and all. Me and this bitch were inseparable, and blood couldn't make us any closer. Although we weren't actually related we were raised as cousins but I considered her more like a sister than anything.
"You were definitely seeing shit, I let that nigga get a kiss and a lil' feel 'cause I want a new Chanel and I don't wanna' pay for it myself." She shrugs, taking a bite out of the piece of bacon in her hand. "He's like a dog, he hates being tied down in one place for too long. I'm not even about to play myself like that."
"Shit, look who's finally standing up." I tilt my head to the side, jokingly snapping my fingers at my girl. "Is that nigga at least going to buy the bag?"
"That and then some." She said proudly, holding up his black American Express card. "I already checked with my girl that works at the Chanel in Brickell City Centre. I'm tryna' burn a hole through this card before we hit the day party."
"Girl say less, I need some new pieces anyway. Plus I haven't been to a day party since college so you already know I gotta' pop out in some fly shit.." I trail off, pushing my food around my plate with my fork.
"Bitch you were in college for like three weeks." Milan chuckles, playfully rolling her eyes.
I just flipped her off before looking around the restaurant for the waitress who was serving us, but she was nowhere in sight. Hell, there wasn't anybody who actually worked here in sight and I'm guessing that's why the group of people who were a few tables down from us rushed out the door. Niggas.
"You ready to go?" Milan asks with a mouth of food as she notices me looking around.
"Yeah, I was about to ask for the check but I don't see homegirl ass nowhere." I sigh, folding my arms across my chest and leaning back against my seat. "Damn I know she's not the only one that works here."
"Girl relax, they're probably on a meth break or some shit."
"Meth?!" I ask, in a frantic but hushed tone.
"Bitch now you know Waffle House will hire anybody." She chuckles, continuing to eat her food without a care in the world. "I'm not complaining though, 'cause the food here don't even be hitting for real unless the cook is either a drug addict or recovering. One of the two."
This bitch be saying anything and not giving a damn either.
"Ooooh bitch!" Mil says as she wipes her mouth, staring past me with stars in her eyes. "Don't look, but it's the nigga's from the club. I guess our chances of running into them again just increased."
Me being me, I turned around anyway. Just as they were walking in and to my satisfaction, the one who saved me from his drunk ass friends came in first. The other three followed. I even saw the one that Milan was referring to earlier. Sipping on what I presumed to be lean in his double stacked styrofoam cups.
I'm not even gone hold you, he was a good looking nigga. He was tall, browned-skinned and covered in tattoos with some pretty ass teeth. He was sporting a low cut fade with some waves and a neatly trimmed goatee, it wasn't hard to tell that he took pride in his appearance.
I could tell that he was nothing like the niggas he hung out with, they were flashy. Wearing two or three diamond chains, rings and watches while he was opted for something more lowkey.
Besides the diamond earring in his right ear and the two-hundred thousand dollar Richard Mille timepiece latched onto his wrist, he wasn't rocking any jewelry or anything.
He was dressed in a black and white Ralph Lauren ombré button-up with a plain white tee underneath, black Amiri jeans and a pair of black and white Louis Vuitton trainer sneakers. There was no question about it, this nigga was pressure.
I was way too deep in thought to even notice that we had locked eyes with each other. I didn't even notice that he was walking towards us until the smell of his cologne crept across my nose and interrupting my thoughts.
I turned my head just in time to lock eyes with him again just as he was passing our table, flashing me a sly grin. He knew exactly what he was doing with his fine ass. Niggas irk my nerves tryna' be cute and shit.
"Not y'all eye fucking each other in these people's establishment." Mil teases as she glances over her shoulder just in time to see them sit down two tables behind her.
"You are so annoying.." I chuckle, shaking my head as I quickly divert my attention back to searching for the waitress. I'm about to say fuck it and just leave some money on the table. "Come on, are you ready to go?"
"Bu—Ugh fine." She whines, rolling her eyes as she slid out of the booth. "I gotta' pee. Come with?"
I nod my head before reaching inside my white Chanel boy bag and pulling out a loose fifty dollar bill to cover our meal and the tip. I could feel his eyes burning a hole through me as I stood up and tugged the end of my dress down a little more. Swinging my hair over my shoulder, I grabbed my bag before me and Milan walked past them like they weren't even there.
Since this janky ass bathroom door didn't have a lock on it, I stood outside and waited for her. From around the corner I could see him and his friends looking around for someone to take their order, but when they didn't see anybody I guess they got annoyed because of them niggas who tried to talk to me outside the club got up and jumped the counter. You really can't take niggas nowhere nowadays.
"Ay! We serving' up ladies." One of them says, directing his attention towards a table of younger looking girls in the corner. The eldest one out of all of them couldn't be any more than nineteen years old. "What y'all want?"
It took them a few seconds but they all got up and rushed over to the bar, taking their seats on the stools. They must've noticed the jewelry and designer fits they were rocking because all of them were damn near foaming at the mouth. Groupie asses. I couldn't even be mad though 'cause these days pussy is currency. Get yours sis. If you gon' be fucking anybody it might as well be a nigga with some money.
"Creepin' much?" He asks me, interrupting my thoughts as he walks up on me. taking a sip of his drank.
I was too busy looking at everybody else that l didn't even see this motherfucker get up.
"I could ask you the same thing." I fire back, tilting my head to the side. Way less defensive than I was during our first encounter.
"What you mean?" He chuckles, licking his full lips before hitting me with that Colgate smile.
"I mean it's too coincidental that you and your boys tried to talk to me outside the club and then you show up here, it's giving stalker."
"Who said I was tryna' talk to you outside the club though? Shid, I was just tryna' make sure you was straight ma. That's all." He says in a more serious tone, his thick country accent hanging off of every word. "You way too beautiful to be acting the way you were, you gotta' let shit like that slide right off you— ?I'm sorry, I didn't catch ya' name."
"Yeah, okay Drake." I said, rolling my eyes and switching my weight from my left foot to the right. "..And that's because I didn't throw it."
"You got a smartass mouth."
"And what about it?" I ask him, before extending my hand out to him. "I'm Kauner."
"A'ight Kauner." He says, gently shaking my hand. As of it was fragile or something. Damn he has some soft hands. "My name Scar."
"That's what your mother put on your birth certificate?" I ask him in a sarcastic tone, not even paying attention to the fact that we were still holding hands.
"Nah, it's just a nickname that stuck wit' me after I got stabbed." He said, pointing to the small but noticeable scar above his eyebrow. Even that was attractive. "If you must know, my real name is Amir. Wit'cho police ass."
"Shut up." I let out a small chuckle, staring into his brown eyes as he caressed the backside of my hand with his thumb. "I'm not calling you by your nickname like none of these fanned out groupies that I'm sure be all on your dick. That's never been me."
"You just always talking your shit, huh?" Amir questions, smiling at me once again. Cheesing ass nigga.
"Is that going to be a problem for you?"
"Not at all." He says, continuing to caress my hand. "I want you to speak your mind around me, even if it's something you think Ion' wanna' hear. Always keep it a buck wit' me."
Yeah this nigga is nothing like his friends. Or any other nigga that I've ever met to be honest.
"Noted. You from around here?" I ask, changing the subject as he let my hand go.
"Nah, I'm from Memphis but I live in Atlanta. Shid, I'm just in your city tryna' catch a vibe this weekend that's all."
"Sir this is not my city." I tell him, placing my hands on my hips. "I live in Atlanta too."
"Bullshit." He sucks his teeth, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Nigga I was born and raised there. I've lived there my entire life." I say matter of factly.
"Then how come Ion' ever see you around? The city ain't that big."
"Because I make sure I stay out of the way. I don't feel the need to be seen all the time. I just be in my own lil' world doing me." I admit, shrugging my shoulder.
That's another reason why I'm careful about who I associate myself with, whether it's a friendship or a relationship. The last thing I want is for a bitch to get close to me just she can be on or a nigga to be able to brag that he had me, just the mere thought of it made me wanna' wrap this conversation up now.
"I feel you, staying out the way and making money is the move these days so I can't even blame you." He nods, rubbing his hands together. "I do find it crazy that we live in the same city and it took for us being in Miami to bump into each other. That's some real poetic shit."
Before I could answer, Milan came busting out the bathroom with a big ass grin on her face. I already knew that meant her nosey ass was listening to our entire conversation, that's what took her so long. For a minute I had forgot all about my girl.
"Oop! Excuse me." She says in a soft tone as she closes the door behind her. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"No, we're just having a conversation." I answer sarcastically, turning to face her. "Milan this is Scar, Scar this is my girl Milan."
"Hey, nice to meet you Nobody." She says, mocking what he told her outside the club a little while ago. "Wassup with y'all two? This is the second time I caught y'all whispering, you asked her for her number yet playa?"
"I'm working on it." He replies, licking his lips once again. Damn.
"Um, can you go wait in the car?" I ask Mil, handing her the keys to the red Lamborghini Urus that I rented for the weekend. "I'm right behind you."
She nodded her head before asking Amir about his other friend who was still sitting in the booth. He told her that was his cousin Shi. He also turned around and told Shi to make sure Mil got to the car safely, within a few seconds they were both walking out the door and we were right behind them.
"About that number.." Amir says, breaking the silence between us as we stopped a few feet away from the car. Where Milan and Shi had their own little conversation going. "You gon' have to come up off that junt."
"I could have a man for all you know." I step off of the curb and turn around to face him, letting his tall slender frame tower over my 5'4 slim thick frame. "You don't know anything about me."
"For some reason I think of you had a man you wouldn't even be smiling in my face right now." He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his iPhone, extending it out to me. "Besides, I'm tryna' change allat. No cap."
"Why didn't you ask for my number outside the club? Before my friends walked up?" I ask out of pure curiosity as I grab his phone and unlock it.
Hmmm, no password.
"You was already on ten and I ain't want no smoke, getting your number was the furthest thing from my mind. I just wanted to make sure you was a'ight." He adds, watching me as I put my number into his phone.
"Right answer." I nod my head in approval, handing him his phone back just as his other two homeboys come running outside. Along with everyone else who was inside.
Without hesitation, Amir had lifted his shirt and placed his hands on the glock tucked into his waistband. I looked over at Shi and he was on the same type of time. Amir let out a sigh once he realized the waitress was the one who had chased them out.
"AND DON'T BRING Y'ALL MUTHAFUCKIN' ASSES BACK UP IN HERE!" She screams at the top of her lungs before slamming the door and locking it behind her.
"Oh shit. Well I guess they found her." He chuckles, shaking his head from side to side as he turned his attention back to me. "Never a dull moment in Miami."
"They always act like that?" I refer to his homeboys, who were leaning up against the black Escalade they were riding in, still eating food from the plates they ran out with.
"Nah, they just a lil' geeked right now.." He assures me. "They cool though, pull up on me tomorrow and see for yourself."
"Not you tryna' link already, I don't even know you." I argue, as if I wasn't feeling the pressure he was applying. "You could be trying to sex traffic me or some shit."
"Sex traff— Oh you a comedian?" He smirks, raising his eyebrow. "Ain't no motive or ill intentions over this way ma, I'm just a nigga who knows what he wants."
"And what is it that you want?" I ask him, licking my lips as we locked eyes once again. I could feel the butterflies swarming my stomach as I awaited his answer.
"Mannnnn look." He says, unable to contain the Kool-aid smile spreading across his lips. "Am I seeing you tomorrow? You can bring your friends along too.."
"Goodnight Amir." I retort, flipping my hair over my shoulder before turning around and making my way to the driver's side of the car.
"Why I feel like you dubbin' me right now?" He questions, following me to the car and opening the door for me.
"Because I'm leaving." I said, sliding in behind the wheel, setting my purse down on the armrest. "You have my number, text me."
We told each other goodnight before I signaled for Milan to get in, she was too busy exchanging numbers with Shi before she hopped in the car. Within the next minute or so I was pulling out of my parking spot and their driver was doing the same, we turned in different directions and I did the dash back to our hotel.
I couldn't get this nigga out of my head the entire ride there, I couldn't believe he got my number. Let alone some conversation, because I am not for the bullshit. I don't even give niggas the time of day but something about Amir hit different. I'm just not sure exactly what it is yet.
• • •
Amir "Scar" Brooks
The next day...
"Now why in the hell would I sell y'all muthafucka's my shipyard?" Omar chuckles, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke from his cigar as he took a seat on the edge of his glass desk. Which was so huge that it took up most of the space in his trailer office. "I'm bringing in billions of dollars worth of shit every quarter. You really think I'ma let y'all punks fuck wit' my livelihood?"
"Because you owe us, and we still willing to pay you what it's worth mu'fucka.." I mock him, through gritted teeth as Khalil and Greg threw four black duffel bags at his feet. Filled with twenty-five million dollars in cash. "Besides, we ain't asking nigga. It's more than enough money in there for you and family to start over somewhere, you might wanna' consider a farm or something in Montana. You know, since the city life isn't conducive to the lifestyle you want for you and your family. That's what you gon' tell everybody before you disappear into thin air anyway."
"Nigga you must be out your godda—.." Before he could even finish his sentence, I pulled my gun out of my waistband and whacked his ass right upside the side. Causing Shi, Khalil, Greg and another associate of ours Malik to all pull out the straps as well. Pointing them at Omar.
"I must be what? Outta' my goddamn mind?" I chuckle. "Oh I already know that nigga, and you know it too. So why the FUCK do you wanna' test me? We from the same hood nigga, you know me."
Omar was touching his bald head and looking at his hand, trying to process why he had blood running down the side of his face. Dripping onto the expensive suit he was wearing.
"W-What if I waive your fee? I'll move your product for free!" He pleads frantically, holding his hands up in surrender.
"Nah see patna', that deal is off the the table. You fucked with my money one too many times. Something you can't afford to do in the line of business that we're in." I said, stepping closer to home. "I know you took that fuckin' product, I know the DEA didn't seize that shit."
Omar looked up at me before he broke down and started crying. Covering his fat face with his little stubby sausage like fingers. Man I wanted to laugh at this nigga, that's how ridiculous he looked. But ain't shit funny about my business losing an entire shipping crate containing ten million dollars worth of drugs. From weed to the purest of cocaine, straight off of the banana boat.
"Scar my house was in foreclosure!" He cries, continuously. "I owed some people some money, a lot of money. Between that and paying for kids tuition I needed a loan! I was gonna pay it all back I promise! Scar plea—.."
Before he could finish I shot him, right in the head. Causing his body to fall back and go through the glass desk. Since the shot was at close range I now had blood splatter all over my outfit. Including on my brand new white Air Force Ones.
"FUCK!" I yell out, more upset about my shoes than Omar's brains decorating the wall behind his lifeless body.
"What the fuck Scar?!" Malik asks, rushing to Omar's side as if that was going to bring him back. "You said you was gon' let him walk!"
"Bitch he stole from me and you thought I was really gon' let that nigga walk up outta' here?!" I ask, cocking my gun back and pointing at him. "You know what, since that was yo' cousin and it was yo' idea to bring him in you just as responsible as he is!"
Malik looked up at me with nothing but fear in his eyes as he hovered over his cousin's dead body. One thing I liked about Malik was that he had the ambition and the heart to thrive in this business, most of the time. Sometimes I couldn't read the mu'fucka and that shit never sat right with me. I need to be able to read any and every nigga that I do business with.
I saw him reaching for his gun and before I knew I had shot his ass too. Right between the eyes. His lifeless body collapsed right on top of Omar's. Killing Malik was the last thing I wanted to do but I couldn't afford to be soft when it came to my paper. Showing a piece of weakness will get yo' ass bled dry and left for dead.
"Y'all got the bodies?" I glance over my shoulder, looking at Khalil and Greg. "Or do I need to do that too?"
"We got it bitch." Khalil says sarcastically. "Y'all other two mu'fuckas can go. I'll hit y'all when it's done."
"Bet." I said, dapping them up before signaling for Shi to follow me out of the trailer.
Vic was standing outside, waiting beside the black Escalade that we rented for the weekend. I told Shi I was gon' go back to the spot so I could take a quick shower and get a change of clothes. He said he was gon' head to the marina to see if the baby yacht we chartered for the day was ready. It was our last day in Miami so we were just tryna' catch a vibe and turn up.
After dapping him up, I told him I'd meet him in an hour before Vic drove me back to the Air bnb rental we were staying at. For twenty-seven hundred a night this mu'fucka was nice, with its own private entrance road and twenty foot iron security gate. Four bedrooms and four bathrooms, marble floors and an ocean view. Not to mention it was fully staffed, on some royal type shit.
I took a quick shower before hopping out and drying off. Shi hit my phone and told me the boat was ready, I texted him back and let him know that I was on the way. By the time I was done with my regular hygiene routine, it was already going on three o'clock, I decided to stop bullshittin' and go ahead and get dressed.
I threw on a black Palm Angels graphic tee with a pair plaid Burberry swimming trunks. Luckily, I'm not a stupid nigga and I know you can only get a good one or two wears out of a new pair of Air Force Ones. I already had Vic stock me up for this Miami trip specifically.
It was close to four o'clock when me and Vic left the house, and in a matter of minutes we were on the freeway heading towards the Miami Yacht Club. I got a text from Khalil telling me that he had taken care of Omar and Malik. Which meant that all business was wrapped up for the day. That's when I decided to FaceTime Kauner.
"Hello?" I hear her soft voice over the sound of rap music playing, just when I thought she wasn't going to pick up.
"Come to the camera." I demand, noticing that the camera was facing upwards. Towards the sky.
"Nigga you can't be just FaceTiming me like that, I didn't know who you were!" She says, picking the phone up and coming into camera view.
"Where you at?" I ask, noticing that she was wearing a bikini top and she was on the beach. Surrounded by hella' people.
"In my skin." She replies in a sarcastic tone, sipping on whatever she was drinking through a straw.
"Man be cool wit'cho smartass mouth." I chuckle, using my free hand to massage my goatee. "For real ma, where you at?"
"I came to this day party with my friends." She said, looking around before turning her attention back to me. "It's whatever, not really a vibe. What about you though? Where are you going?"
"I'm on my way to pick you up. You and ya' friends." I tell her, subconsciously wondering if I was being too forward. But I pushed the thought away. "Send me your location."
"And just where are we going playboy?" She questions, smiling from ear to ear. I could damn near see all thirty-two teeth in her mouth. "I'm not dressed to go anywh—.."
"Trust me." I chuckle, assuring her that she was good. "You straight."
After she sent me her location, I noticed she was only five minutes away at the Porsche Design Tower so I told her to be ready and waiting outside. Vic busted a quick u-turn and we were there in no time. She was waiting outside just like I had asked, with both of her friends that she was with outside the club last night.
She looked a little different without makeup, but not in a bad way. You know you look good as fuck when you look even better without makeup. Designer frames covered her eyes but her blemish-free complexion glowed against the Miami sun and she had her hair pulled back into a low hanging ponytail.
She wore a blue Dior two piece bikini set, but the bottoms were covered by a pair of distressed Samaria Leah shorts that accentuated her slim curves. Goddamn. God took his time with this one fasho. Once Vic came to a full stop, he got out before walking around to my door and letting me out.
"Oh damn, you got it like that?" Her homeboy asks, just as Vic closed the door and took his stance beside the car.
"Oh you know." I chuckle, dapping him up first. Which I could tell made him a little uncomfortable, so I made a mental note to not do it again. Even though it's a habit. "Wassup, I'm Scar bro."
"I'm Kyran, it's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."
"Damn already?" I raise my eyebrow, glancing over at Kauner. "Good things I hope."
"Something like that." He shrugged.
I was familiar with Milan so I just said wassup to her before turning my attention to Kauner. Her friends let her know that they would be waiting in the car and she told them that we were right behind them.
"You gonna' stop drooling and say hello? I believe that's the proper greeting instead of staring." She says, catching my gaze as my eyes roamed her slim but thick frame.
"Is that right, Miss Kauner?" I question, snapping myself back into reality.
"It is."
"Can I have a hug? That's considered a greeting too, isn't it?"
She paused, as if she was in deep thought about it.
"We'll see how the day goes." She mutters as she brushes past me and walks to the car.
Shaking my head, I turned around just in time to see Vic opening the door for her. I already knew she was trying and failing to play hard to get, she might be like that with them other niggas but I'm not them. And they ain't me. This gon' be fun.
• • •
"How did you get into owning your own businesses with them?" Kauner nods her head in the direction of Shi and Khalil. "Is that something that you always wanted to do?"
"Nah.." I said, looking at the sun set over Miami in the distance as I caress her legs. Which were thrown across my lap. "I actually wanted to play ball, go to the NBA or some shit. I had the skills too, everybody told me I had the potential to be somebody, you know? But that shit was years away, I was too hungry and I got involved in the streets way before I should've."
"Is that what happened right here?" She asks, rubbing her soft hand over an old bullet wound on my chest. "The streets?"
"Yeah, I got shot when I was 17. Four times." I tell her, admiring the way the orange glow from the sun kissed her damp skin. "I got hit once in my chest, once in my arm and twice in my right leg. Shit never healed properly enough for me to play on a professional level."
It's been a few hours since we got on the boat and after riding the jet ski's, going swimming and sparking a few blunts everybody was winding down. Shi was spitting game to Kauner's homegirl Milan and Kyran was still smoking with Khalil and Greg. Meanwhile me and Kauner had been sitting on the main deck for the past hour and a half, chopping it up. Talking about everything under the sun.
"Oh my god Amir." She says in a sympathetic tone, continuing to caress my old war wounds. "I can't even imagine what that was like, for you and for your parents."
"It was just my grandma, my moms was in jail since I was a baby. She ain't get out until I was eighteen and I ain't really know my dad like that." I shrug, lowkey wanting to change the subject. I don't just talk to anybody about my past, I been through a lot and I overcame a lot. That shit means something to me. "What about you though? You always wanted to do what it is that you do?"
"Heh. Believe it or not, I wanted to be a scientist. I wanted to cure cancer." She says, rolling her eyes upwards as if it was an impossible achievement. "Only when it was time for me to actually go, I realized that it wasn't what I wanted to do at all. That was the first time in my life that I didn't know what the fuck I wanted to do."
I could listen to her talk for hours.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but what exactly do you do? Take pictures on the internet and get paid for it?" I question, half joking.
"I'm an influencer." She said, shrugging. "Anybody with a pretty face can get on social media and get some likes. That's not the hard part. You need to actually be influential in order to make social media a career."
"Are you influential?"
"Nigga what do you think?" She tilts her head to the side, rolling her eyes at me.
"You gon' stop rolling them eyes at me too."
"And of I don't?" She folds her arms across her chest. "What you gon' do about it?"
She took a pause after asking me that, staring into my eyes. Almost like she wanted me to lean in and kiss her. I thought about it, but I wasn't sure if I was misreading the signs. Normally I would've been made my move, especially if I was just tryna' get a quick nut or some shit. It wasn't like that with this girl, I barely know her yet here I am telling her my whole life story. She was easy to talk to.
I'm used to busting bitches down and getting them hooked on what I liked to call every bitch's bad habit. I just wanna' try a different approach and see how this shit turns out 'cause I would be lying if I said I wasn't feeling Kauner. Maybe it was the fact that I know she's being genuine because she don't need shit from me. That's not something that's easy to come by these days.
"Aye yall, we about to dock!" Shi shouts from the lower deck, interrupting my thoughts.
Me and Kauner just smiled at each other when we realized our eyes were still locked. She told me she's was gonna go get dressed and ready to go before she got up and made her way over to the stairs, glancing back at me before disappearing onto the lower deck.
The sun had gone down by the timewe docked, I made sure to walk with her so she didn't get in the car with everybody else. At the last minute I pulled her off to the side and walked her around to the passenger side of the white convertible Lamborghini Aventador parked in front of the Escalade we arrived in. Shi had the matching black one for him and Milan.
"Amir what is this?" Kauner chuckles, looking at me in disbelief as I opened the butterfly door and hand her the bouquet of white roses from off the seat.
"A token of my appreciation." I said, watching her admire the roses. "Thank you for spending the day with me, now let me take you out to dinner."
"But I'm not dre—.."
"Did I ask you that?" I cut her off, ushering her into the passenger seat before closing the door. "Now was that a yes or a no?"
"I guess." She waves me off, trying to act nonchalant as she settled back on the black leather seat.
I flashed her a smile before jogging around to the driver's side and getting in. I didn't waste any time starting the engine and peeling off. Key Glock's latest album bumped through the speakers as I dipped in and out of Miami traffic, racing with Shi. This shit is beautiful, Miami was a motherfucking vibe period but at night it was something else.
It was going on nine o'clock by the time we made it to Bal Harbour shops. We had both of the cars valet parked before we all went in, receiving crazy glares from the white people who were dressed in their Sunday's best. As if we didn't belong. Shit, I probably had more money than half of them mu'fuckas so I was trippin' at all.
"I don't need your money." Kauner said, giving me a hint of attitude as I told the Saks associate at the register to charge everything to my account. "Throwing your money around does nothing for me because I have my own!"
"I know I know, relax ma. I wanna' do this for you. Especially since it was last minute." I said, lifting her chin with my finger. "Now go pick out something expensive so I can show you off."
"Like a prize pony? No thanks."
"No. Like my date."
"Oh so this is a date?" She questions, folding her arms across her chest.
"Nah, we just going out as co-workers." I answer her sarcastically. "The hell."
"You get on my nerves." She chuckles, waving me off as she walked off towards the women's section. "You never told me the dress code, how do I know what to pick out?"
"Just grab something nice." I said, rubbing my hands together. "I'ma go get ready and I'ma be waiting on you right here."
She replied with a simple okay before trying to turn around and hide the blood rushing to her cheeks but it was too late. I saw that shit. And that's how I knew I had her.
• • •
Excuse any error or mistakes, I literally wrote this in one night lol. MISSED YOU GUYS, sorry for the long wait. Next update will be here much quicker. Don't forget to comment and vote!