“That smoothie gon’ hold up for real?”
“Yep.” Myome pushed away from the island and hopped up. “Are you going to make it to Radiant Reverie’s show tonight?”
“Maybe. Are you going to file that paperwork to change your last name?” I countered.
Myome laughed immediately and Rome shook his head.
“Is this blackmail?” he asked.
“It’s married people’s business. You wanted that food so bad, shove it in your big mouth and keep quiet,” I said simply, my eyes still focused on Myome.
“I feel like it would be insane to go through the hassle to change my last name on all of my important documents when we may not even stay married.”
“Who said that?” I walked around the island, gripped Myome by her waist, and pulled her in. “Till death do us part, remember?”
“Mhm.” She nodded and I leaned down to kiss her fine ass. My hands trailed down and back and I gripped her ass and pulled her into me even harder. “Who else you want to be with, Yo?”
“Nobody.” She reached up and put a hand to the back of my neck and gently pulled me down so we could kiss again.
“Good answer.” I smacked her ass and let her go. “We’ll be at the show though.”
“Thank you.” She smiled up at me.
“Mhm. Send me y’all lil flyer too and I’ll share it.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“You good.” I let her go and walked back toward the stove when I heard my next set of bacon popping .
“I’ll see y’all later,” she said as she gathered her bag and keys.
“A’ight.” Rome plucked up another piece of bacon and shoved it into his mouth, a forkful of eggs in his other hand.
I turned the stove off and glanced toward the garage door Myome had just headed out of. I listened for the hum of her car starting then faced my brother.
Rome was shoving the eggs into his mouth and pouring syrup over the toast on his plate at the same time.
“You don’t eat when you ain’t here?” I asked.
“I mean, yeah, but nothing beats home cooking,” he said. “This house husband shit fits you.”
“Don’t play with me, bitch.” I chuckled, grabbed my plate, and stacked food on it. “Just because you can’t make a bowl of cereal doesn't mean the rest of us have to starve.”
“Whatever. Just keep cooking like this and Myome may not even file for divorce when this shit is over.”
“You trying to bait me?” I asked.
Rome set his fork down and a huge smile took over his face. He nodded unashamedly.
“Yeah. I am. So tell me what’s up. Y’all look real cozy around here.”
“Myome’s my wife.” I shrugged, grabbed my coffee mug and fork, and walked around the island to take a seat.
“For real?”
“It’s legal, ain’t it?”
“You know that’s not what I’m asking.”