Page 69 of Certified To Handle You 2

“I guess that mean we the same thing,” I replied while finally rollin’ off her.

I reached over for my weed while Sha’Nelle pulled the sheet higher over her body and got comfortable beside me. I sparked it up, took a long pull and passed it over to her.

“We orderin’ breakfast,” I said while watchin’ her take the blunt from my hand.

Sha’Nelle brought it to her lips and looked over at me through the smoke. “You already decided?”

“I decided last night,” I replied, ‘cause she should’ve known by now that I had already planned the whole damn day.

“And after we eat,” I said while takin’ the blunt from her, “we gon’ figure the rest out.”

Truth was, I already had it figured out. I planned on keepin’ Sha’Nelle close and gettin’ her back to Trill-Land whether she knew it yet or not.

Greystone City

A whole damn week passed, and I was still with Renza.

What started off as me spendin’ one more day with him turned into seven, and every mornin’ I opened my eyes in the Airbnb, I told myself I needed to get up, put my damn clothes on and go handle the rest of my life. Then Renza would wake up, pull me closer or start talkin’ about what he had planned for us, and another whole day would get away from me before I could make myself leave.

Half the time, I wasn’t even gettin’ out the bed right away ‘cause every mornin’ that nigga was findin’ a way to put that dick on me soon as his eyes opened. He’d be all on me, kissin’ on my neck and slidin’ his hands over my body like he had been thinkin’ about me in his sleep.

It ain’t matter if it was early in the mornin’ or late at night, we was fuckin’, and so into each other in a way that made it hard to pull away.

He had already made it clear he wasn’t takin’ me to my mama house for no clothes. The first mornin’ I brought it up, he looked at me like I had asked him to drive me across the world just to grab a shirt.

Instead of listenin’ to me, Renza took me to Bellamy Row, which was one of the nicest shoppin’ areas in Greystone City. The whole street was filled with boutiques, shoe stores and places I normally walked past without botherin’ to go inside ‘cause I knew everything in there cost too damn much. Renza walked in every store like he owned the whole block, and before I knew it, he had saleswomen followin’ us around with dresses, jeans, shirts, shoes and whatever else he thought looked good enough to put on me.

I tried tellin’ him I only needed enough clothes to get me through the day, but that nigga wasn’t listenin’ to nothin’ I said. He bought me three pairs of jeans from expensive ass store, more tops than I could count, enough leggings to fill a whole drawer, lil’ two-piece outfits, dresses, pajamas, sneakers, heels, sandals, jewelry, perfume and every lil’ thing he thought I might need. By the time we left, the back of his car looked like somebody had moved into it. All I could do was shake my head ‘cause I had already learned arguin’ with Renza about spendin’ money on me was a waste of breath.

That pretty much set the tone for the whole week.

Every day, he found somewhere new for us to go, and somehow a nigga from Trill-Land knew more about Greystone City than people who had been livin’ here they whole lives.

We spent one afternoon walkin’ through the River Market, stoppin’ at lil’ shops and food stands while he bought me every snack I looked at for longer than two seconds. Another day, weended up on a rooftop restaurant overlookin’ the skyline where we stayed for hours eatin’, talkin’ and watchin’ the sun go down like neither one of us had anywhere else to be.

He took me to museums, lounges with live music, parks tucked away in parts of the city I had never even seen before and restaurants that ain’t look like much from the outside but had some of the best food I ever tasted. We even found a hole-in-the-wall breakfast spot I wanted to go to one mornin’ where the waitress knew everybody by name except us, and by the time we left, she was tellin’ us to come back.

Some days we really wasn’t doin’ shit at all. We’d sleep late, order food, watch movies, smoke, laugh about the dumbest shit and fall back into that bed like we couldn’t stay out of it for too long. It wasn’t just sex either. It was the way he touched me, the way he took his time with me, the way he looked at me like he meant everything he was doin’. The nigga knew how to love on me and break me down at the same time and every time I told myself I was gon’ slow it down, he’d have me right back under him, forgettin’ whatever the hell I was thinkin’ about before.

We’d lay there for hours after, talkin’, laughin’ with my body still pressed up against his while he played in my hair or rubbed on my skin like he wasn’t ready to let me go yet. It felt peaceful, and I ain’t even realize how much I needed that until I finally had it.

As much fun as I was havin’, there was still one thing sittin’ in the back of my mind that I couldn’t ignore.

Couture…

We ain’t get to talk nearly as much since he left town for work, and a part of me was grateful for that ‘cause it gave me time to sort through everything that was goin’ on in my own head.

Whenever we did talk, our conversations was shorter than usual. Sometimes it would be a quick phone call while Renzawas in the shower, and my ass would be sittin’ there tryna sound normal like I wasn’t just in bed with another man hours before. Other times it would just be a few text messages before one of us had to go.

Every time his name popped up on my phone, guilt found its way into my damn spirit.

Like I always say, the nigga had always been good to me, and I knew he deserved honesty from me. I just couldn’t bring myself to turn his world upside down while he was out of town workin’. The last thing I wanted was for him to be distracted, worried or carryin’ all that weight while he was supposed to be focused on his job. That conversation needed to happen face to face, even if I was scared of how it was gon’ end.

I knew waitin’ wasn’t forever, but I also knew a phone call wasn’t how I wanted to close a chapter with somebody who had loved me the way he did.

Those thoughts came and went all week, but every time I looked over at Renza, he had me pulled up against him, kissin’ on me, talkin’ about what we was finna do next or what he had planned for us, and he kept pullin’ me right back into the moment like nothin’ else mattered.

Before I knew it, seven days had passed, and we was gettin’ ready to spend another night together.