Chapter 5

𝙻𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗

It’s Saturday, which means no school. And on top of that, I didn’t work. We done reached that level of rich where I ain’t have to work anymore, and honestly? I love that for me.

But that wasn’t even my main concern right now. It wasn’t my sprained ankle, and it damn sure wasn’t the shootout at the college anymore. Nah—what had my full attention was me standin’ in my kitchen in a tight grey cropped tank top and some little ass booty shorts, starin’ into the fridge like somethin’ new was gon magically appear—only to come out with nothin’ but a glass of water… and boom.

That same nigga from yesterday, just standin’ by the island counter in our open-concept kitchen like he pay bills here.

My brows pulled together instantly, tight as hell, and so did his—like I’m the one trespassin’.

“What the fuck…” was all I could muster.

I tugged at my shirt, tryna cover my belly button real quick, but his eyes ain’t even drop. Stayed locked on my face. Thank God, ’cause yeah… I ain’t prepared for being perceived this early.

I wasn’t exactly giving put-together right now.

“You’re that girl from the party,” he said, and I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my brain.

Now don’t get me wrong—it’s nice seein’ a fine-ass man in my kitchen, I’m not even gon’ lie. Just…not like this. Not when I look like I just rolled out the trenches with my bonnet missing and my dignity on thin ice while my hair was in a messy bun, glasses on, and eye patches under my eyes like I’m fightin’ for hydration and sleep at the same time.

No. Just. No.

“The hell is you doin’ in my kitchen—”

“Aries is your new bodyguard.” My dad walked in, and I let out the longest, most irritated groan known to mankind.

Because of course.

After everything that happened last night—after arguing back and forth, damn near fighting for my life tryna explain why I don’t need no bodyguard—he still went and got me one anyway.

And not just any one. One who’s messin’ around with a bitch I cannot stand.

And hold on… does he even go to my school? Because the way he dressed right now? Ain’t no damn way…

“Is he gonna be everywhere?” I asked, my lip curling in disgust. I mean sure, he’s attractive—but I’m not about to be walking around looking like I got a lost puppy following me everywhere I go. Granted… He don’t really give “lost puppy,” but still…

“She,” my father corrected smoothly, like I’m the problem. “Is going to be within reach. You’ll have her number, and you’ll make sure to call.”

My head snapped back so fast I almost gave myself whiplash. I squinted a little, really looking at her this time.

Oh.

…that’s a stud.

“Whitney’s gay!?” I blurted out, loud as hell, and Aries immediately pinched the bridge of her nose like she already regrettin’ this whole play.

“She’s bi,” she corrected flatly.

That just made it worse. I let out a loud-ass cackle, shaking my head in disbelief like yeah… that tracks. Cause that explains a LOT.

My father looked between us, confused as hell, flipping his hand back and forth. “You two know each other?”

“I was at the party when it got shot up. Met her there,” Aries explained, calm as ever—like she wasn’t casually dropping trauma in the kitchen.

My dad inhaled like that was the worst confirmation possible. “Great. Y’all know one another. Keep my daughter safe. Her life is in yo hands when I ain’t ’round.” He said it firm, no room for debate, and she just nodded.

Her eyes scanned me as I turned and walked out the kitchen like I wasn’t even tryna hear all that.

“Londyn, behave,” he warned.

I rolled my eyes, watchin’ him leave the house. I’m assuming he got some business to handle, actin’ like he ain’t just flipped my whole mornin’ upside down.

“Thanks for yesterday,” she spoke up.

I looked at her. Her gaze low—like she was halfway here, halfway somewhere else. And for some reason, my brain just kept repeating—

I’m talkin’ to a stud. I’m talking’ to a stud.

To a stud. A whole-ass stud.

“…yeah,” I muttered.

That was it. That’s all I had, because for some fuck-ass reason, every other word I wanted to say just flew straight out the window like they got somewhere better to be.

“So, you know Whitney?” I asked, trying to recover, and she just hummed with a shrug.

My eyes wandered before I could stop them. The button-up clung tight around her muscular arms, and you could tell she was strong as fuck just from her shoulders alone. And she was tall—like… unnecessarily tall. Her curls were in twists braided back, fresh fade crisp as hell, and her gaze stayed low like she just smoked a whole dispensary.

Which… she probably did, considering the faint mix of weed and cologne lingering around.

“We mess around from time to time.” She said casual as ever.

My face immediately twisted up in disgust. “Nigga, is you intentionally tryna catch something?” I asked, genuinely concerned for her health at this point.

She chuckled, shakin’ her head like I’m the one trippin’. “I’ll be safe, worry about that nigga that almost got you killed.” She shot back

Oh. She got jokess.

A smirk pulled at my lips. “You think you funny, huh?” 

She gave a small smirk back, but it disappeared just as fast as it came—like she don’t let herself enjoy shit for too long.

“Keep yo STD-ass self at a distance,” I said, extending my arm out like a barrier.

She nodded, unfazed, glancing around the house. “Where yo bathroom at?”

I motioned toward the hall. As I watched her walk off, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah… watch yo piss burn,” I muttered.

She flipped me off without even turnin’ around. My jaw dropped before I burst out laughing.

“I heard that!” she called out.

Yeah… this finna be a problem.

I already wasn’t feelin’ the idea of being alone with some random girl. And a stud at that? Yeah, no. Absolutely not. My only option was to invite one of my ex’s. 

My friends were still actin’ funny, but my ex? Well… he still answer.

I made my way upstairs and changed into some black baggy sweatpants and a white crop top with some slides. I gelled my hair into a slick ponytail, makin’ sure my edges were laid right, then headed back downstairs.

Only to see Jordan standin’ there, starin’ at Aries awkward as hell—like he didn’t know whether to speak or pray.

I paused. Lord… I hope this nigga don’t think I’m gay now or somethin’.

Aries turned, her brow raisin’ when she saw me.

“I’m goin’ out,” I said, and her eyes dropped straight to my ankle. “With that shit messed up?”

I shot her a glare and sucked my teeth. Jordan looked down at my patched-up ankle too, but I just waved him off. “Keep pushin’, nigga.”

“Who’s that?” Jordan asked.

Now why would he ask me some shit I don’t even got an answer for? I paused. what was I supposed to say? My Cousin?  A Friend? My dad’s best friend’s daughter or some shit? Like…

“A friend of mine,” I finally sighed.

Before I could take another step, I felt her hand wrap around my arm, tuggin’ me back just enough that I stumbled into her.

“You know I gotta be with you at all times, right?” she said, her voice low.

Right. I fucking forgot. 

I let out a harsh groan, draggin’ my hand down my face.

“Bring Whitney or somethin’ so it isn’t weird,” I said, pushin’ off her and grabbin’ Jordan’s hand as we headed outside.

“In this!?” she called out, lookin’ down at her clothes.

I shrugged. “You be aight.”

“Nah you got me fucked up.” I heard her mutter from behind me and I chuckled, steppin’ outside to wait while she supposedly went to change.

My eyes flickered back toward the house for a second.

I hope my father didn’t accept her movin’ in… because I know I saw that luggage sittin’ on the side.

Yeah… no. Absolutely not. I might actually lose my mind.

We waited by Jordan’s car, talkin’ about nothing, when suddenly headlights flashed. My attention shifted—and landed on a Dodge Challenger SRT lightin’ up.

My eyes widened.

“Get in.” She walked toward the car in grey sweatpants, a white tee, and some crisp-ass Forces. Simple. Calm. Regular. But somethin’…Somethin’ ain’t lookin’ right.

And I mean—I know some girls be lowkey about certain stuff. Private. Reserved. You know? But then you got the ones who be a little too bold.

My eyes narrowed slightly.

…Is that what I think it is—

Yeah.

Let me just mind my black-owned business and stay in my lane.

I walked over and so did Jordan.

“You gotta ride on your own, two seater—” She pointed at him.

I turned ALL the way around, lookin’ at her like she lost her damn mind. Cause ‘cuse me??? What do you mean two-seater?

I quite frankly did not want to be stuck in a car with her. Alone. Is she trippin’? I would rather squeeze into a clown car with all my exes.

“If you don’t—” She grabbed me by my waist and tugged me right back. I let out a groan as I got in the car, watchin’ Jordan get into his own.

“So damn stubborn,” she huffed, gettin’ in and pointin’ at the seatbelt. “Put it on.”

I sat there in silence for a good minute. Just to piss her off. She let out a huff and leaned over, bucklin’ it for me herself.

Lowkey… this kinda fun.

“Hurry up and pick up your walkin’ STD so I can hop out this car,” I said as we pulled onto the road.

“Yo ass still stayin’ in this car,” she replied. I glanced over at her arms, my eyes tracin’ the tattoos and the way her veins popped as she held the gear. My gaze lingered longer than it should’ve.

“You couldn’t have stayed home, watched a movie?”

“Is you gon’ cook for me?” I shot back.

“You ain’t ask??”

“You can cook?” I asked, genuinely shocked.

She let out a drawn-out huff, clearly offended, and I shifted my gaze again—this time to her neck tattoo, then the one near her sideburns. Her lashes were long as hell, eyes focused on the road like she wasn’t even payin’ me no mind.

“You got a girlfriend?” I asked.

Her brows furrowed as she switched gears. “Why would I have a girlfriend if I’m messin’ around with Whitney?”

“Mmm… loyal or lyin’ ,” I teased. “I heard all studs be the same.”

She finally turned her head to look at me once we stopped at a red light. “Girl, not all studs lie. Don’t lump me in with them either,” she said.

I pursed my lips.

“So you’re loyal, is what you’re telling me,” I said, unconvinced.

She nodded. “For my girl, yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I shrugged.

“You look like the type to play plenty girls. Specially them straight ones.”

She paused.

And when I say paused—I mean really paused.

Her eyes dragged over me slowly, not missing a single thing, and for a second… it felt like the air shifted.

Our eyes locked.

“What..?” I asked, feeling something weird flicker in my chest.

“Nothing.”

She turned back to the road like it ain’t even happen, driving straight to the movies instead of picking Whitney up.

I wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of hanging out with Whitney of all people… but clearly, here we are.

𐃯

Whitney kept glancin’ at me, tuggin’ on Aries’ arm like she was marking territory.

“Girl, I’m not gon’ steal her,” I muttered, liftin’ up my hand intertwined with Jordan’s.

“Why are you two even around one another??” Whitney huffed.

I glanced at Aries with a smirk. I could say somethin’ reckless right now… real reckless. But I decided to behave.

“We’re friends,” I shrugged.

Whitney chuckled. “The party told me otherwise?”

“Daughter of my father’s friend? Like?? Keep up, Whitney,” I grumbled. Aries pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Can we just get our food and head in?” Aries asked, her voice low.

I rolled my eyes and walked ahead with Jordan.

“That yo friend?” he asked.

“Who!? That short bitch?” I shot back.

He hummed.

“Hell no.” I scoffed and she suddenly brushed past, Aries letting out a sigh behind us.

“You brought her.” I chidded and she hummed knowingly.

We all got our food and headed in. I made sure to grab a seat away from Whitney. I was not about to be stuck in the middle with her. Instead, Aries sat on my left, and Jordan took my right.

Now Jordan done took over the cup holder on my side, which meant I had no choice but to use Aries’ side. That is… if she moved her big-ass forearm.

I reached over and pinched at the little hairs on her arm. Her head turned immediately, her gaze landing on me as the movie started playing.

“Can I use the—” Before I could even finish, she moved her arm, resting it along the back of my chair instead.

Her eyes stayed on me a second too long. Whitney leaned forward from the other side, and I quickly glanced away, clearing my throat. Why does she stare with that low-ass gaze like that?

The entire movie, I couldn’t even focus. First, it was her scent—gas mixed with this sweet cologne. It shouldn’t have worked together, but did. Too well. Then it was her. Glancin’ at me every now and then like she wanted to say somethin’… but kept choosin’ not to.

And then there was Jordan.

His hand resting on my thigh, movin’ slow, creepin’ higher like he slick. As if I don’t feel his clammy-ass hand. What made it worse? Every single time he did that, Aries would glance at me. That same look. Every time.

Can these idiots watch the damn movie?

“What we doin’ after this?” Jordan leaned into my ear.

I hummed. “Food. I want food,” I said simply.

He huffed.

Yeah… I know what his dumb ass wanted. But I wanted wings.

So that’s what we did. And I did not enjoy sitting next to Whitney. Not one bit. Like… not even a little. She glanced at Jordan, her eyes draggin’ over him before she hummed. “He fine as fuck.”

I rolled my eyes instantly. “All my exs are, I’ll give ’em that.”

She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head like she already knew that.

“Don’t think about stealin’ mine,” she huffed, finally glancin’ toward Aries—who was glued to her phone, barely paying attention, just reachin’ into the middle every now and then to grab fries like she been here a thousand times.

“Girl, yo ass gay as fuck. You ain’t got nothing to worry about,” I said flatly.

“Bitch, half your exs look like studs,” Whitney shot back without hesitation.

I grumbled, leanin’ back in the booth. “Can’t a man be pretty? Like, damn??”

Whitney just hummed, unconvinced.

“Me and Aries are just friends. Plus. My ass ain’t into girls like you.” I rolled my eyes and reached for a fry the same time as Aries.

Our fingers grazed against one another, just barely. But it was enough. A sudden shiver ran down my spine so quick and unexpected I stiffened slightly without meanin’ to. She pulled her hand back, lettin’ me go first. 

“Sorry,” I cleared my throat. She just shook her head, grabbin’ one after me. My face oddly felt warm as I stared at her tatted hands. 

“How you know her anyway?” I questioned and Whitney shrugged.

“From a friend.” She said and I hummed unconvinced, but deciding not to press it.

After the wings, Aries dropped Whitney off. Just like that, it was just me and Jordan again. He wasted no time turnin’ toward me, that “timing” look already written all over his face.

“She gon’ be tied up for a minute, right?” he asked, voice low.

I leaned back in the seat, glancin’ out the window for a second before answering.

“I doubt it.”