Page 52

His phone rang, Kirk’s name flashing on the screen, and he groaned. His trip had been taken over by thoughts of her, but he couldn’t let his boys see him like this. They’d come out for a reason.

“Bruh, we heading to the spot in thirty. You ready or you still crying wit yo simp ass?”

“Fuck you, nigga. I’m ready. Y’all pregaming or what? Y’all niggas talked all that shit about the party and vibes, and all I saw you niggas do is take aspirin and tums. Lame asses.”

“Fuck you, meet us on the balcony of my suite. Slim brought the good shit out.”

Brooks glanced at his phone one more time, checking for messages he knew wouldn’t be there.

He hoped a night out was exactly what he needed. Because the change of scenery definitely wasn’t. He needed something to get his mind off her soft brown eyes. Soft skin. Perfectly plump ass, and her in nothing but them damn boots.

He was happy to be in the company of his friends. Words he used very loosely but not when it came to them.

“Aight,” he said, reaching for his sunglasses. “I’m on the way. Let’s turn this bitch up.”

But even as he said it, he knew no amount of liquor or designer weed was going to make him forget the way Taylor fit perfectly in his arms. He was convinced that she’d changed him over the course of their time.

Ten minutes later, he stepped onto the penthousebalcony of Kirk’s suite, finding his boys already deep in their cups, passing a blunt and talking shit like they were back in high school.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Kirk called out, grinning. “Thought you was gonna stay in there writing poetry and shit all night. Crybaby ass.”

“Man, shut up,” Brooks laughed, sinking into one of the leather chairs. The fruity weed filled the air, taking the edge off just a little. The men among him had been his day ones before the money, before he had to take over his father’s business. They had watched him grieve, grow, and he’d been able to do the same.

“Nah, for real though,” Slim chimed in, passing him the blunt. “What’s good with shorty? She ghosted you or what? What you do?”

Brooks took a slow pull, letting the smoke sit in his lungs before exhaling. “I ain’t do shit. But we ain’t gon’ talk about that. Tonight’s about you and this dispensary. Congrats.”

“Translation… she definitely ghosted his ass,” Kirk howled, dodging the jab Brooks threw at his head.

“At least I ain’t thirsty like you,” Brooks shot back, shaking his head. “You gon fuck around and catch something. Don’t call me either.”

“Y’all know how cold Antarctica is?” Ace finally spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the laughter. They all turned to look at him. All equally confused where this question was going. But that was Ace, he didn’t speak much. But when he did it was either going to be crazy or funny. He didn’t know any other way.

“Don’t start that shit bruh.”

“Yeah, exactly y’all already know what I’m about to say. That’s how cool I am on a bitch. Can’t trust ‘em.Too quick to fold. I’m good on all that.”

The whole group doubled over laughing.

“Nigga, you was listening to Redbone in the whip?” Brooks cracked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Fuck you, Brooks,” Ace grumbled, shaking his head. “That shit hard.”

Brooks laughed, but truth be told, he felt Ace. Taylor was dragging it, and all he wanted to do was love her. What was the problem? He’d keep asking that question until he got a satisfactory answer.

“Listen,” Kirk held up his hands, still grinning. “I’m spreading love, my nigga. Can’t help if the ladies love me and I love ‘em back.”

Slim snorted. “The ladies love your bank account, you mean. And Ace, nigga, please, yo crazy ass run them hoes off.”

“I’m a crazy ass nigga, so things happen. Be out of my control.” Ace shrugged.

“Speaking of bank accounts,” Brooks cut in, steering the conversation, “this dispensary bout to be something else. You really did your thing with the design, the flavors, branding all that shit foo.”

“Facts,” Kirk nodded, pouring more liquor into their cups. “That VIP lounge upstairs, overlooking the city? Genius. The baddies gon love that. I’m tryna take home a baddie tonight.”

But Slim was watching Brooks too closely. “Nah, don’t try to change the subject. What’s really good with you and this girl? You tryna settle down now? Listen, I’m happy for you just ain’t think I’d see the day.”

“One day, nigga. Damn. I never said I ain’t want the white picket fence life. But I ain’t begging nobody to fuck with me.”