"Already?" Sosa looked at his watch. "Damn, time really do fly when you having fun."
"Who said I was having fun?" I shot back even though I was smirking, and he caught it.
"Your face and that smirk you trying to hide right now." He stood up too, walking around the table to stand in front of me. Up close, he was even finer. all that dark skin and sharp features and eyes that saw too much.
“Oh please, like I said, you held me hostage tryna spit them weak ass lines.”
"You can front all you want, ma. But I know you feeling it too."
"Feeling what?"
"Me.” He said and he smiled.
My heart was pounding, but I kept my voice steady. "I aint feeling shit, you got yo’ money. And that's all this was, a business transaction."
"If you say so." Sosa smiled, slow and knowing. "But just so you know, I don't forget faces. Especially not one as pretty as yours."
"Good for you." I picked up the empty duffel bag. "Enjoy your night."
I turned to walk away, but his voice stopped me.
"Yasani."
I looked back over my shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Next time Yatta have to make a drop to me, make sure he sends you every time, I enjoyed this."
"Bold of you to assume there'll be a next time."
"Bold of you to assume there won't be."
I wanted to say something back, something that would wipe that cocky ass smile off his face. But the truth was, I didn't have nothing. He'd got me, and we both knew it.
"You say that like you know me, you don't know shit about me."
"Not yet," he repeated, his smile never faltering. "But I will. That's a promise, beautiful."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips. "Whatever. Have a good evening sir."
“I'ma see you again real soon."
I flipped him off over my shoulder without looking back, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole way down the stairs. My face was hot, my heart was racing, and every nerve ending in my body was alive in a way they hadn't been in a long time.
When I got back to my car, I sat in the driver's seat for a minute, just breathing. What the fuck was that? I'd dealt with cocky niggas before; the streets were full of them. But something about Sosa was different. He talked shit, but it wasn't empty. Every word felt like he meant it, like he saw something in me that even I didn't see in myself.
I started my car, shaking my head and peeled out the parking lot, with my tires squealing probably more than necessary. Fuck him and his smirk and his nose ring and those eyes that saw too damn much. but even as I drove away, I couldn't stop smiling.
I swear he was the kind of man that made you forget about everything, your plans, your nigga at home, and your common fucking sense.
* * *
Three Days Later
I stared at my phone screen, watching Rylo's name light up as the call went to voicemail. Again. That made six times in the past hour.
"Come on, pick up," I muttered, hitting redial. The phone rang once, twice, three times, then it went to voicemail.
"Yo, it's Lo. You know what to do."