Page 5

“Yeah you. Go see what he wants and come find me when you’re done.” He retorted snidely.
Even Shunta was confused, prompting her to ask. “What’s his issue?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. Plucking my shorts out my butt I stepped around her. “I’ll be back.”
Ambling from behind the bar I hit the main floor and walked up the few stairs until I was standing at the entrance of the roped off section. “I was summoned.” I said to some light skinned nigga that was standing there like he was guarding the section.
Instead of saying anything he kind of stepped to the side and waved his hand for me to enter. Narrowing my eyes into slits I cocked my head to the side. “Look I don’t have time for games. Who asked for me?”
“I did.” A deep and gruff voice boomed from behind him. When I realized where it came from, I chuckled under my breath. Now I knew what had put Chucky in a foul mood. I was getting ready to walk over to see what he wanted when the nigga patted the seat beside him.
“I’ll pass.” I gave him a fake smile and turned to walk away.
“Nariah, wait up.”
Huffing, I halted my stride and turned to face him. “How you know my name?”
“Chucky told me.” He shared once he was standing directly in front of me.
“Figures.” I rolled my eyes and slammed my hands on my hips. “What’s up?”
Chuckling, he stroked his chin. “I ain’t want nothing. Just trying to see what’s up with you.”
Looking him up and down I quickly deduced that he wasn’t my type. He was handsome no doubt, but the nigga was wearing shades in the club. If that wasn’t the corniest shit ever. Then he had on one of those big ass chains that rappers wore. Which had me remembering that Amp said he had just signed a record deal.
Deciding to dead the conversation before he got any ideas I voiced. “I have a boyfriend.”
A smirk formed on his face. “You want a husband?” He challenged and stroked his tongue across his teeth.
“Cute...real cute, but I don’t do rappers.”
“Who said I’m a rapper?”
“Seriously?”
“I’m just saying.” He held his hand out. “Juice.”
“Nariah.” I placed my hand in his. “But you already knew that.”
“I did.” Removing his eyes from my face he looked over my head. “That’s you?”
Turning in the direction he was looking I quickly spotted Chucky standing in the cut eyeing the hell out of us. “Chucky. Fuck no.” I don’t know if it was the look of disgust on my face or the tone in which I said it that caused him to laugh but Juice tossed his head back and chuckled.
“I ain’t think so. Nigga was trying to throw salt in the mix.”
“How?”
“Don’t matter how. But for real.” He rubbed his hands together. “I know you said you don’t do rappers and shit but uh…think I can get ya number?”
“Why you want my number Juice?” I mused.
“Cause I’m tryna see what’s up with you. Ya know…get to know you a lil bit.”
“Awww. That’s so cute.”
“Cute. The fuck.” He based, making me laugh.
Getting serious I added. “No seriously, outside of the fact that I don’t fuck with rappers and me having a situation I’m flattered but I can’t.”