Page 22 of Session 33
I sighed. “Thanks for everything. I’ll see you.”
But he didn’t leave. He followed me, and when I got to the entrance, he slid the key card out of my hand without a word.
“I can do it myself,” I said, trying to sound annoyed, but my voice came out too soft, almost shaky.
He ignored me, sliding the card into the lock and holding the door open. “Naomi told me to get you home safe. That’s what I’m doing,” he said, that cocky smirk making me feel like I was losing control of the moment.
He watched me the entire elevator ride. Eyes burning a hole in my face.
I felt too many things at once—annoyed, flustered, confused, turned on, mad, resentful. My stomach was in knots, and my chest felt tight. Why couldn’t I just tell him to leave? Why couldn’t I just say fuck him because I knew he wasn’t good for me?
“You don’t have to babysit me, you know. I’m not a fucking child,” I said, just to have something to say. I was being petty since I couldn’t be strong.
“I know,” he said, simple and calm.
“Then why are you doing it? Why are you even here when you have her waiting for you in the car? Ain’t that your girl?”
The elevator dinged, and he stepped out first, waiting for me to lead the way. “No, and because you need me,” he said.
I wanted to scream. He was acting so fucking calm, and I was a mess.
I didn’t comment. What would be the point? We reached my door, and before I could fumble with my keys, he took them from my hand, unlocking it.
I moved past him, and my chest brushed his in the tight space. His fingers lingered as he handed back my keys, his eyes dropping to my lips like he was considering something.
He leaned in, close enough that I felt his breath. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. My heart went crazy in my chest, but at the last second, I stepped back.
He frowned but didn’t say a word. Instead, he smirked, glancing at me like he knew exactly how I was feeling. Then he turned and walked back to the elevator.
I shut the door and leaned against it, overwhelmed. Kicking off my shoes, I sank onto the sofa, my chest tight and my eyes stinging.
Cassius was too much—too much to deal with, too much to handle. But I had already let him take up so much space in my life. Allowed him to make me want things I didn’t trust him to give me. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
Chapter- Seventeen
Keisha had moved to the front seat by the time I got back from helping Angel to her door. She sat stiff, arms crossed, lips pursed in a tight, bitter line. She hated me right now, and honestly? I understood why. I just couldn’t bring myself to care. My head was still with Angel. I knew women—knew the signs—and Angel was turned on. Her heavy breathing, the way her nipples strained against her dress, her hazel eyes gone dark like storm clouds. She had wanted me to stay.
I’d already decided. Keisha was getting dropped off. I was going back. I’d grab some coffee for Angel to clear her head. We were going to talk. We were both going to get what we wanted, and this time I wasn’t letting her pull back.
Angel was mine now. I’d claimed her in my head already, and yeah, maybe that shit sounded crazy, but I didn’t care. I’d officially settled with the fact that she was under my skin, and I wasn’t even trying to shake her loose anymore.
Keisha sat there quiet the whole ride, arms crossed, face screwed up, until I pulled up in front of her duplex. Then she snapped, turning to me like she’d been holding it in the whole ride and couldn’t wait to get it off her chest.
“What?” I asked, staring her down, already irritated.
“Why you so fucking disrespectful, Cassius? Rubbing that fat bitch in my face, opening doors for her like she’s somebody. Why you treat me like shit when I do so much for you?”
The second she called Angel out of her name, I was done. Whatever little respect I had for her? Gone.
“Get the fuck out of my car,” I barked. “And don’t start crying, ‘cause I don’t give a fuck about a hoe’s tears. I pay your ass for everything you do for me, and I pay you well. Maybe after sucking my dick, if you’d turn down the money I offer you, I’d treat your hoe ass better.”
I leaned over and popped her door open. “Get out.”
She moved slow, on purpose, just to piss me off. Almost fell getting out, too, but straightened up quick, slamming the door so hard it rocked the car. I couldn’t help but laugh. She was a clown, and I wasn’t about to let her fuck with my mood.
“Fuck you, Cassius. Don’t call me anymore, you depressed, sad-ass, crazy fuck-ass little boy.”
Her words hit harder than I wanted them to. For a second, I just sat there, stuck, because hearing them twice—first from Angel, now Keisha—made them impossible to ignore. I felt a gnawing sense of unease settling into my gut. Keisha was still screaming threats and insults as I drove away, but her words echoed in my mind, bouncing around like they were trying to find a place to settle.