Page 8 of Gotta Jones For Ya

Two Weeks Later

The “bad bitch”

playlist at the shop was in full rotation. SZA, Meg, Ari Lennox, and a little Summer flooded the speakers, and a soft scent of coconut and clean linen filled my shop.

“Okay, girl. Open up a little more for me,”

I said, leaning over my client Alisha, isolation tweezers in one hand, a .05 lash fan in the other.

“Blinking like crazy over here.”

She giggled.

“I’m sorry, but these lights got my eyes spazzing.”

“That’s ‘cause you was out drinking last night, tell the truth,”

I teased, dipping the lash fan in glue and securing it to her outer lash.

“You still smell like Casamigos.”

“Guilty as charged.”

She laughed, then added, “Also… where you get that new moisturizer from? Your skin is glowing!”

I smiled a little to myself.

“No moisturizer, love. Just been drinking water and staying out the way.”

Once her full set was done—long, wispy, cat-eye just like she requested—I handed her a mirror, and she gasped so loud I almost thought she didn't like it.

“Bihhh, these is fire!”

she squealed, propping herself up on her elbows and admiring herself.

“I’m about to call my sneaky link right now!”

I laughed.

“Tell him I want a tip for the inspiration.”

While she tapped through her phone, I walked to the counter to check my next client in—and that’s when my phone buzzed.

I held up my hand, signaling I’d be right back. Stepping behind the curtain to my back room, I answered the call and switched to FaceTime, smiling but rolling my eyes.

“Don’t you got cars to sell or something?” I asked.

Knuck was leaning back in his desk chair at the dealership, fresh cut, plain white tee, chain peeking from under his collar. That beard was gleaming to perfection.

“Sold two this mornin’ already,”

he smirked.

“Missed your voice. That okay wit' you, mean ass?”

My lips parted. “Maybe.”

“Mm.”

He licked his bottom lip.

“You tryna act like you wasn’t just thinkin’ ‘bout me.”

“I wasn’t,” I lied.

He gave me that look. The one that made my thighs tense up.

“Lyin’ like hell. You wore that tight-ass jumpsuit I like today, huh?”

“Knuck…”

“What? Can’t help it. You sittin’ up in that cute lil’ lash bar all soft and pretty. Knowin’ damn well I’d fly out right now and bend your fine ass over that pink couch.”

I shook my head, blushing like a damn a schoolgirl.

“I gotta go.”

“Aight, baby. Think ‘bout me slurpin’ on that clit.”

My mouth curved. I hated how fast he made my stomach flip. Hated how he’d send random I miss your smart mouth texts at 2AM. Or how he always answered on the first ring when I called. Or how he said my name like he really missed me. We weren’t together. But we weren’t nothing, either. I was caught up, and I knew it.

After we hung up, I took a second before going back out front. I didn’t need to check my phone to know what time it was—he FaceTimed me damn near the same time every afternoon like clockwork.

I finished my next client, cleaned up my station, wiped my counters down, and pulled my phone out to check the group chat.

I tossed the phone down and sighed. My girls knew me. I didn’t do the whole heart on my sleeve thing anymore. I didn’t tell folks when I started catching feelings, and I definitely didn’t give out chances easily after what I’d been through.

But Knuck?

He was patient in his own wild way. He let me rant. Let me flirt and pull away. Let me ask dumb questions like, “What do you even see in me?”

and still make me feel like I was it. He never pressured me to claim him but I could feel him locking in more and more with every call, every dirty little text, every “where you at?”

and “you ate today?”

The man was crazy as hell… but I was really starting to like him.

That shit scared the fuck out of me.

**

By the time I got to my apartment that evening, I was dead tired. My feet were screaming, my back was tight. All I wanted was a long shower, a glass of wine, and maybe a little FaceTime sex with Knuck to finish my night off right.

I grabbed my purse and keys and paused when I walked past the mailboxes. Mine was slightly open, which was weird as hell because I never forgot to close it. Nobody really mailed shit these days anyway besides bills and bullshit. I frowned, tilting my head as I walked up closer, ready to swing if I had to, but instead, I saw a black velvet gift box with a handwritten note. Big enough to hold something serious.

I squinted, heart lurching in my chest like it got caught on something.

“Boy, what the hell did you do?”

I mumbled under my breath, glancing up and down the street real quick before grabbing the box and heading inside.

I kicked my Crocs off at the door and tossed my keys on the island, and dropped my purse on the chair. Then I set the box on the kitchen counter, flipping the lights on one by one. My apartment smelled like warm vanilla and lemon cleaner. Peaceful.

I opened the velvet box slowly and damn near choked. Inside was a custom nameplate chain in thick gold that said “Knuck.”

The chain was chunky and hood fly. Heavy like it cost big money. And underneath it was a dainty little matching anklet with a small “K” charm.

My thighs clenched. I wanted to be mad at how possessive it was, but I wasn’t. I was wet. Like… literally. Standing by the island, I was blushing and smirking like a damn teenager with a crush.

I picked the chain up, lips parting, the weight of it cold and perfect in my palm. Knuck was unhinged. Deranged. Delusional. And yet… he was sweet in the stran-gest way. I pulled my phone out to text him, but it started ringing first.

I rolled my eyes playfully and answered, plopping on the couch.

“Hey, lady,”

I said, curling my legs under me.

“Hey, baby,”

she said, her voice light and full of smiles.

“I was just calling to check on my favorite girl. I know I’m a day late and a dollar short but we just got to the hotel in Aruba, and you crossed my mind.”

Of course. Aruba this week. My mama and my stepdad stayed booked and blessed. I saw them maybe twice a year.

“Y’all don’t ever sit down, huh?”

I teased, grinning.

“Wasn’t y’all just in Barcelona?”

She laughed loudly.

“We were! But Carl saw this all-inclusive special, and you know I don’t say no to a good view and free rum punch.”

“Living the life,”

I said.

“I love that for you.”

“How’s business? You booked up?”

“My girl, I’m slam packed. My shoulders hurt. My playlist stayed lit all day, though.”

She made a little “mmhmm”

sound, always proud of how I kept my hustle going.

“And how’s your love life?”

she asked next, like it wasn’t comin’.

“You still single single?”

“Hmmm…”

I paused and bit my lip.

“…I’m kinda seeing somebody. Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Maybe. Something like it.”

Silence.

“Ohhh?”

she dragged it out, voice full of interest.

“Is he handsome? Employed? Does he believe in Jesus?”

I snorted.

“Yes, yes, and… I think so? He doesn’t live in Arbor Hills. East Hollis. But he comes here… often. He’s… okay. I like… I like him. And he makes me laugh.”

She hummed again.

“Well, I’ll reserve judgment until I meet him, but I’m happy for you, baby. Just don’t get too caught up too fast. You know you lead with your heart sometimes.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see it.

“I’m tryna be smart about it.”

“Well, good,”

she said.

“Carl and I are about to order room service, and I just wanted to hear your voice. I’ll text you some pics in the morning, okay?”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you more, sunshine.”

I hung up, stared at my phone for a second, then back at the box on the counter. And just like that… another text came in.

I shook my head and smiled as I went to cleanse the day away.

Fresh out the shower, my skin smelled like cocoa butter and honey. I stood in front of the mirror, still damp, dragging warm oil over my thighs and arms, watching the way the glow kissed my curves. Afterwards, I slipped into the blush pink lace lingerie that hugged me in all the right places and left damn near nothing to the imagination.

I reached for the necklace and clicked it into place around my neck, and then hooked the anklet around my ankle. For whatever reason, my heart thudded wildly in my chest. Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I took a breath and pressed the FaceTime button. The screen rang twice before connecting, but Knuck wasn’t on the other end.

It was some girl with long box braids and long lashes. A messy background that looked like a trap house. She smirked at me.

“Oh, hey Future Wifey,”

she said, tilting her head like she was amused.

I blinked.

“Um… where’s Keon?”

She laughed.

“He’s outside. So, you’re the new girl, huh? You’re pretty as hell.”

My jaw locked.

“The new girl? Who the hell are you?”

“Geesh,”

she rolled her eyes.

“He never mentioned me? I’m his fav—”

I didn’t even wait for her to finish. I hung up, and silence swallowed the room. I sat there for all of three seconds before I snatched the necklace and anklet off, throwing them on the nightstand like they burned me.

“That’s what I get,”

I muttered to myself, pacing my bedroom, hands on my hips.

“That’s what the fuck I get for slipping and letting a fine-ass, toxic ass, crazy ass thug with a bomb dick get me caught up.”

I grabbed my phone, jaw tight, vision blurry. I typed fast as hell.

I hit send, and I blocked Knuck’s number, then blocked him on social media. Placing my phone face down on the nightstand, I climbed into bed, chest hollow and hot. Tears hit my pillow without permission, and I curled into myself, trying to stop the ache in my chest from spreading. I shoulda known better…