Page 13 of For the Love of City

COREY

THIS SHIT WAS wild.

I was sitting in an NFL stadium, in a suite no less, watching my lil sis sing her heart out to the man she loved with the team he played for, as it was televised for the world to see.

And I approved of this shit.

The man I used to be would’ve called me a simp and sucker for sitting up here tapping my foot to this damn upbeat ass song, but Lyric had a way of talking me into anything.

Including liking this team that wasn’t the home team and bobbing my head to the team fight song she’d re-written.

That’s how her slick ass got the name Finesse .

She had been talking us into some wild shit from day one, but her smart ass never missed and it normally paid off. The biggest gamble she ever took was on herself and now she was a multimillionaire without the street shit and had put the entire family on.

Me and Trav had come down to watch the season opener and I be damned if I wasn’t affected by this atmosphere.

This shit felt…normal. And for someone like me who had never known normal, it didn’t feel awful.

I thought I would feel out-of-place being around all these rich, straitlaced muthafuckas, but just like Lyric’s dude, the guys I met were straight.

Antwan was a fool who had us cracking up, Grams kept hitting on me and Trav, and Coby even though he looked like a white dude, was cool as hell. I mean, his ass looked like he ate entire countries for breakfast but was nice. Especially around his kids.

I could tell they were the type of men who didn’t play about their families and that earned my respect even more.

This suite was the peak of lavishness. Since Lyric’s dude was the starting quarterback and one of the team captains he was afforded a suite up on the owner’s level.

The back wall was lined with a variety of food my ass had already had two plates of because it was damn good to be in a stadium.

Despite being tall, I had bulked up slightly since I’d been locked up and I wasn’t trying to go back to looking like a strong wind could blow me over like I did as a kid.

I was grateful for the weight I’d put on and kept working out to keep it up.

The team colors and logo were over the furniture and the walls and next to it were the jerseys of the men we were here to cheer on.

The friends that Lyric had made along with her agent named Billy meant they had adjoining boxes to watch the game.

Billy was married to the fake white boy and I had to personally thank her for getting Lyric out of trouble when it came to her situation with her ex D Mill.

She’d stepped in for baby sis as a favor for someone else and it seemed like they were locked in.

Everybody really liked each other so the walls to the suites were pushed back and folks were just coming in and out between the two of them.

At first, me and Travis were slightly uncomfortable especially since we didn’t have shit on us, but with security guarding the door we were finally able to relax.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

Something about that voice had me tuning out Lyric’s and turning to see who had walked in the room.

And it was like my world stood still. Shawty was bad.

Like super model bad. Tall as shit, like Lyrie’s agent with skin as dark as mine.

She had some long ass hair swinging down her back to the crack of her ass and looked like she strutted rather than walked.

I mean Her face reminded me of the model Uche Nwosu and I needed to get closer to her.

“Don’t worry bout it. You had to get her straightened out.

She looks amazing, by the way.” Billy pointed to the big screen in front of the suite and the beauty’s face lit up.

I noticed that she wasn’t dressed like the other women that were attached to the men I’d met.

Whereas Billy, Rye and other wives were in custom jerseys or outfits that were in the team colors, this stunner was in all black.

“I do damn good work.”

She was grinning proudly and began to sing along to the words of the song I’d stopped listening to as soon as she walked in.

She was doing the melody dirty, but I ain’t give a damn.

I just wanted to keep her singing. The joy on her face was contagious and watching this group of Black women cheering on Lyric like they were getting paid to be her biggest fans had a nigga proud as fuck of everything she’d accomplished without me.

It was one thing to know people loved your people, but to see it was a whole other vibe.

Her lips were full and thick and damn I wanted to suck on them shits. Her nose was kinda slender but also broad at the tip and she had these intense medium brown eyes and she was rocking a long braid down her back.

As if she could feel me burning a hole in the side of her head, she glanced at me quickly, then doubled back. Her brows furrowed curiously before her eyes went to Billy. With the way she was comfortable with Lyric and the rest of these folks, she had to be Porsha.

Lyric ass didn’t tell me Porsha was walking the streets looking like Oshun.

Billy sat up and pointed toward us ready to make introductions. She’d been relaxing while bouncing her daughter on her knee to the song. “P, this is Travis and Corey, Lyric’s—”

“Oh! You’re the big brother!”

Her face lit up with recognition like Lyric had been singing my praises and baby girl thought she was meeting someone famous.

She stuck her hand out and everything like I was a business transaction.

I rose from my seat because despite the way I’d grown up I knew better than to sit when a woman was greeting me.

Her brows rose and I knew my height was deceptive.

Standing at over six foot seven I was used to people gawking at me.

Since everyone on this level of the stadium was wealthy, I was sure that people assumed I was an athlete.

The stares I’d gotten were from people trying to see if they could recognize my ass.

I stared down at that hand wondering how wrong I would be to want a hug, but realized I was geeking.

I shook it quickly and gave her a nod. “Nice to meet you, shawty.”

Her eyes widened and she looked like she was surprised at how I sounded.

I knew that I had a rough ass voice. That shit never got less raspy no matter what I did.

As a kid that wanted to fit in, I’d done everything I could.

I stole everything from warm tea to cough drops to soothe my vocal cords.

Them shits liked sounding raw as hell so after a while I just had to run with it.

“Got damn, City, you not even gone introduce ya boy?”

Travis’ eagerness had me ready to stomp his ass out, which again was unlike me.

One thing we never did was get possessive over women but the smile on his face was something that irritated my soul.

He’d jumped his ass up all too happy to be touching shawty and now I wondered if he and I were going to have a problem.

I worked my jaw as his grin got wider and I wanted to mush his ass in the head. He wasn’t small by any means but I would still palm his head like a basketball and toss him out the door like Uncle Phil did Jazz.

“Since you saw I just met the lady—”

“You must be Travis.”

That hand was out again and he took it with a grin. Her tone sounded teasing but I ain’t even like that. Like they had inside jokes and shit I didn’t know anything about. When he kissed the back of it, I cocked my head cause he really had me fucked up.

“I am.”

She laughed before taking her hand back unimpressed by his actions. “You can keep that pretty boy shit right where you got it. I already know you’re the ho’ of the group. No, thank you.”

“That shit would’ve normally broken my heart but since Lyric loves you I know we gone be cool.” He held his fist out for her to dap him up and she kept him waiting.

Her brow arched in a way that she didn’t believe his ass could be friends with women. She would be right, but giving how I was reacting to her, Trav would definitely have to see her as another sister to look out for.

“I promise I’m good.”

She finally bumped fists with him and relaxed her face.

“Well, it’s good to finally put faces with the names.

Lyric sings y’all’s praises and I have to thank y’all for stepping in for her when you did.

” Her eyes kept darting up to me while talking to him and she caught me staring each time.

I didn’t give a damn that she knew I was looking, Porsha knew she was bad.

“Wouldn’t be able to call ourselves men if we didn’t.

” Something in her eyes sparkled and I needed her to know it was dangerous as fuck for her to be at all impressed by me.

Cause I would take that and run and have those black daisy dukes she was wearing on the floor while she braced herself against the ceiling as I slurped her pussy like an ice cream cone.

“True, but the idea of being a man can get bastardized along the way. A lot of niggas see keeping it real as only looking out for themselves. Y’all were solid and even though you’ve known her longer, she’s like family to me. So thank you again.”

“You sound like you’d beat a bitch’s ass behind Lyrie.”

“Definitely would. Her so-called bestie would be the first one on my list.” The way she rolled her eyes and folded her arms over the silk black tank that covered her body was a clear sign she hated Trice.

“That girl ain’t getting the time of day from me or anyone else in this room, P, chill.”