“Yeah, that’s what ya mouth says.”
“Nigga, that’s what I know.”
He shakes his head, smilin’. For the rest of the ride up the Turnpike headin’ north, we keep it light, smokin’, laughin’ ’n listenin’ to music ’n shit. I stare outta the window, takin’ the ride in. It’s not ’til after he takes the lower level of the George Washington Bridge, takes the exit for Leonia/Teaneck, then takes the ramp for Route 4 West that I know ’xactly where he’s takin’ me—Morton’s Steakhouse in Hackensack, a high-end, over-priced steak spot. The minute we turn onto Riverside Square, my mouth waters. And it has nuthin’ to do wit’ the restaurant, and e’erythin’ to do wit’ The Shops at Riverside Mall. One’a my hot spot fashion stops!
I turn my attention to ’im. “Umm, sweetie,” I say, shakin’ my head, “You takin’ me to Morton’s?”
“Yeah, you aiight wit’ that?”
I nod. “It’s cool. But you really shoulda did ya homework before bringin’ me way up here.”
“Why?”
I smirk. “’Cause the last nigga who brought me here ended up diggin’ in his pockets forty-two hunnid deep.”
He laughs. “Yo, if the cat let you do his pockets, then good for you. But, know this, I ain’t that nigga.”
He smiles. “That’s nice to know.”
“Yup, it suuuuure is. Now pass da blunt.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Once we’re inside the restaurant and seated, we place our orders. For appetizers, we share an order of Jumbo Lump Crab Cake and Colossal Shrimp; for dinner, I order the beefsteak tomato salad wit’ fresh bleu cheese and red onions. He gets the Chilean sea bass.
Although I ain’t wit’ all this winery bullshit, I order a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon; sum shit I ain’t eva heard of. And shit a bitch ain’t feelin’. I wait for the waiter to walk away, then ask, “So, tell me. Is this ’posed to be a date?”
“Nah,” he says, smirkin’, “it’s a cool-ass nigga chillin’ wit’ a sexy-ass dime-piece, havin’ dinner. Why, you want it to be?”
I smirk back, slowly shakin’ my head. “Nope, not at all.”
“Cool then.” The waiter returns to the table wit’ my drink, and the appetizers. He waits for ’im to bounce, then says, “So how long you plan on stayin’ in Jersey?”
“For as long as I want,” I tell ’im, placin’ a crab cake on my plate. I shrug, cuttin’ into it wit’ my knife. “I don’t answer to anyone.”
“Oh, you don’t?”
I tilt my head, raisin’ my brow. “No…I don’t.”
“Good, neither do I; so we straight.”
I roll my eyes, twistin’ my lips up. “Yeah, right; tell me anything.”
“What, you don’t believe? A muhfucka ain’t latched down to nuthin’ or no one.”
“It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not,” I say, placin’ a forkful of crab cake into my mouth. “I’m not tryna have you.”
“Oh, word. You not?” I tell ’im hell no. “Yeah, aiight; that’s what ya mouth says.” I roll my eyes. Tell the nigga to kiss my ass. He laughs, then stares at me, shakin’ his head. His foot brushes mine. “Well, maybe I’m tryna have you,” he says, poppin’ a shrimp in his mouth. He licks his thick, titty ’n clit suckas. I shift in my seat, crossin’ my legs, then squeezin’ my thighs. I feel the pressure buildin’ up in my clit. The weed we smoked gotta bitch mad horny.
He laughs. “Yeah, aiight; we’ll see.”
“Nigga, are you always so cocky?”
He grins. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. I gotta lotta cock, what can I say?”
I suck my teeth. “Oh, so you one’a them niggas whose in love wit’ his dick, I see.”
“Nah, it’s the bitches who are in love wit’ this dick. I’m the muhfucka who’s in love wit’ gettin’ it wet.” I decide to ig his ass, relieved the waiter comes back to the table wit’ our meal. By the time we’re halfway finished eatin’, I learn he’s an only child, like me. That he’s close to both his parents, particularly his moms. That he spent almost two years in college, but dropped out to do nuthin’ but hustle bitches off’a they paper. Well, he didn’t say it like that, but he might as well had. That he has no children. Burns mad trees. And fucks a string of horny bitches.
“And no baby mommas?” I ask again, half-believin’ ’im.
“Nope.”
“Okay, so none that you claimin’.”
“Nah, none period. I told you, ma, I wrap my shit—all the time. Well, ’cept when I’m gettin’ throated.” I raise my brow. He laughs. “Word up, I’m dead ass. Unless a broad can get pregnant swallowin’ my dick batter it ain’t happenin’.”
“Alriiiiiighty then. Next.”
“What ’bout you; how many baby daddies you got?”
“None. And I ain’t tryna have one.” I’m kinda shocked when he asks if I’ve eva been pregnant. Although I coulda told the nigga no, I decide to keep shit real. “Yeah, when I was young and dumb. But I handled that situation real quick, trust.”
“I feel you.” I’m surprised when he tells me ’bout some nuttyass bitch who kept claimin’ he knocked her up. How she tried’a drag ’im into court for child support; how she kept showin’ up at his family’s spot wit’ a baby that looked nuthin’ like ’im.
“Damn. So what you’d do?”
“I got a blood test.”
“Okay, and?”
“And it wasn’t mine; just like I told the ho from the door. Fuck outta here.”
“Mmmph, that triflin’ bitch was dead wrong for that,” I say, shakin’ my head. “Tryna pin a baby on a muhfucka. There’s a buncha scandalous bitches doin’ grimy shit like that; lettin’a buncha muhfuckas pop off in ’em, then they gotta pull baby daddy names outta hats ’n shit.”
“Yeah, that shit was real crazy. She even had my fam comin’ at me sideways; ’specially my moms’ ’n shit. And I wasn’t feelin’ that shit at all. I kept tellin’ ’em the shit wasn’t mine. If it was, I’da manned up and handled my responsiblities.”
“Well ’least it worked out for you.”
“Oh, no doubt.” I decide to ask if he’s ever been in a relationship. He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“Are you serious?
“True story.”
I twist my lips. “Mmmm, so I guess you one’a them niggas whose gonna spend his whole life runnin’ through a buncha bitches, hunh?”
The waiter returns to the table to see if we want dessert, or sumthin’ else. We tell ’im no, and send ’im on his way. He waits for dude to walk off, then shifts his attention back to me. He leans up in his seat, rests his forearms on the table. “Yo, check this out. I’ve smashed a buncha pussy, tore the frame outta a ton of ass, and coated a buncha throats and I have no regrets. So up ’til now I’ve been cool.”
