Page 39 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

“ N aw, you’re just talking out your ass now, nigga,” Kofi states.

“I’m not. I’m challenging you, nigga,” Ranson argues. “How are you going to have my brothers telling me that your spring rolls are better than mine? Justice must be restored.”

“Name it, rich kid,” Kofi says.

“A cue off.”

“A cue off.” Kofi smirks.

“You heard me. Your barbecue against mine. The South vs. the South, baby. Kentucky and Mississippi. And Gum Pond is about to whoop Lexington’s ass.”

“My nigga, you don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, but I do.”

Lyric announces. “I sent a text to Big Head, and he’s offering to be a judge. Although, he did say this isn’t a real competition because Memphis ain’t being represented.”

“Fine, he can join to. Triple South competition. Let’s do it!” Ranson says.

Lyric texts her cousin frantically. He responds.

“Big Head’s in.”

They’re all in the backyard of Ranson’s finished home in Calabasas. They’re sitting on the patio under a canopy, next to their significant others.

“A’ight what are the stakes?” Kofi asks.

“Bragging rights, and you get to pick where our couples’ vacation will be,” Ranson replies.

“Bet.” Kofi looks at Suchi and winks.

Suchi simpers.

Aimee leans in. “What was that about?”

Suchi murmurs with her hand blocking her mouth. “We’re going to St. Lucia for the couples vacation.”

“That’s if Kofi wins,” Lyric says.

“Which he will.” Suchi beams at her man.

“We’ll see. Ranson learned from a real OG, his grandfather.”

“Girl, c’mon. I learned from my grandfather, my father and my uncles. Your man’s getting waxed,” Kofi teases.

“Slow your roll, American Gigolo ,” Lyric mocks.

Kofi points at Lyric. “Good one.”

“I thought so,” Lyric laughs.

“No matter who wins, I say we go back to New Orleans.” Aimee suggests.

“Yeah, we’ll visit Ukweli and thank her,” Lyric says.

“Guys, we should take a group picture and send it to her for her miracles manifested room,” Suchi suggests.

Bridget is Silas’s little spoon as they lay on a large chaise lounge. “And give her more money. I mean, look at us, she earned it.”

“What say you, fellas?” Aimee asks.

“You know us. Anything to make you ladies happy,” Silas squeezes Bridget’s waist.

“Here, here,” Ranson runs his fingers through Lyric’s hair and rubs his nose against her neck.

“I’m always down to do anything with Suchi,” Kofi sucks on Suchi’s bottom lip and kisses her.

“And wherever you are, I’m there,” Patrick kisses Aimee’s hand and sucks on a finger.

Each woman responds by kissing her man. While the rest give a juicy smooch, Bridget and Silas are full-on making out. When they break apart, everyone is staring at them and chuckling.

Bridget looks at Silas and gives him one more kiss. “Oh, yeah. We’re giving her more money. Ranson, you got that handled, right?”

“Sure, Bridge.”

They all laugh before getting up and taking a group picture.

THE END