“I’ll check you tomorrow, Bruh. See you later, Nyomi. Aye, Skye, hit me up if you want me to come and take a look.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was fucking the shit out of Lorianna with thoughts of Skye’s pretty ass roaming through my mind.
“I can’t believeyou’re mad that my brother-in-law is living his life. He gave you a chance, and you claimed not to be interested,” Nyomi said.
It was the Thursday after I’d seen that nasty ass text Knox received from Lorianna, and I was in my office talking to Nyomi on the phone while on my lunch break. We both worked for BEU. She was the director of library services, and I was the director of admissions.
“I’m not mad,” I denied.
“You sound mad.”
“If anything, I’m surprised he’s out there like that. When we went out, he put on a whole show as if he was ready to settle down, yet he has women sending him pussy pics.”
I was thoroughly impressed with Knox’s outdoor carpentry work but was completely disgusted when the pussy picture appeared at the top of his phone screen.
“Y’all went out damn near a year ago, Skye. Did you expect him to stop living his life?”
“Of course not. But getting nasty pictures from women you aren’t committed to is not the behavior of a man looking to settle down.”
“He can’t control what women send him, and who says he isn’t committed to her?” she asked.
“Because it wasn’t the same girl I saw him with at the bowling alley, and you haven’t mentioned meeting anyone.”
“I haven’t, but?—”
“I rest my case. If she were someone important, he would’ve introduced her to you and Kilo by now.”
“Just because I haven’t met her doesn’t mean Kilo hasn’t. Why are we talking about him anyway, sis? Have you changed your mind about?—”
“Absolutely not. Knox is for the streets, and I want no parts of him and his shenanigans.”
“Bestie, you know I’m with you when you’re right, but I will tell you when you’re wrong.”
“How am I wrong?”
“If you think Knox is for the streets, then you two are on the same page.”
“How so?”
“A few weeks ago, you said, and I quote, ‘Knox probably thinks I’m for the streets.’”
I gasped at the reminder of my words, and my mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.
“Yeah, you should be speechless,” Skye said.
“Are you saying I’m for the streets?”
“No, I’m just repeating what you said, but I mean . . .”
“Nyomi Gabrielle St. Patrick.”
“That’s me.”
“Are you calling your best friend of almost twenty years a ho?”
“A ho?”
“Yes, ho, a ho!”