She laughs and says, "If it makes you feel better, next time I'll wear my robe to help Lil wash her car."
"Appreciate it." She laughs again and rolls her eyes at me. If she only knew how fucking serious I am. I'm about ten seconds from wrapping her ass up in a tarp just to cover all that perfect skin up.
"Are you hungry? Lil and I made club sandwiches, garlic fries, and potato salad."
Killing me. Baby girl is trying to fucking kill me.
****
It's been a few weeks since I met Lala, and when I don't see her, all I do is think about her. I wonder where she is and what she's doing. Kind of fucked up considering I've barely hung out with her and I've only seen her twice. I've got no business thinking about her really, but here I am drinking and thinking about her anyway. This kind of feeling is one I don't understand, nor do I want to.
After she washed that stupid fucking Jeep and fed me, she hung out, had some drinks and shot the shit with me for a few hours. Everything I learn about her just keeps getting better. I have never met a bitch so goddamn easy to be around. No drama. No bitching. She's calm and sweet. Didn't know bitches could be sweet and chill, but here she is, changing my fucking mind.
That's not the only shit that's got my attention, it's the confidence the oozes from her. Baby knows she's hot as fuck, knows she can have and do whatever the fuck she wants, but she doesn't throw that shit in your face and she keeps it in check. Lala's got attitude and a smart fucking mouth, and she can back her shit up. She doesn't take no shit and she's just as willing to give it if she has to receive it.
I'm a grown ass man and I'm fucking crushing on this bitch. She is the whole package of what any man like me would look for in an old lady, but that shit ain't gonna happen. I'm putting that shit up to just pure sexual attraction. I want to fuck that bitch, and I want to fuck her bad. That's it.
Okay so I'm lying my fucking ass off. She struck something in me the other night – something I'm having a hell of a time trying to shake. I don't know how to deal with feelings, or whatever it is taking hold of me, but that shit is gonna stop. I'm not exploring it. Hell, I wouldn't even know what to do with them anyway.
****
Walking through the club, Lil hollers for me from the office as soon as my ass is in the fucking door. Damn that girl is on it.
"Rampage, whatcha doin?" Lil is a pain in the ass more than she isn't.
"Depends." My answer gets a laugh from her.
"Well get your ass in here, will ya?"
Walking into the office I find Lala sitting on the couch across from Lil's desk, holding Ty. Well, goddamn. Fuck she looks good. She just made my fucking day.
"Depends on what?" Lil fires back, pulling my attention back to her. For a minute I stare like an asshole while my brain starts to work again.
"On what ya want me for." I try hard not to stare at Lala, but that shit's not easy.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her shift on the couch, noticing she won't make eye contact with me. She looks uncomfortable. I want to ask her if she's okay, but I don't. It's none of my business.
Lil goes to say something, but Lala waves her off before she can start, "Don't worry about it, Lil, really. l said I would figure it out, okay?"
Fuck, now she's got me curious.
"Nope. Rampage can do it," Lil shoots me a look that says I'm doing whatever it is, whether I want to or not. Bossy little shit.
"What do ya need, Lala?" I ask, but little bossy britches answers for her.
"Lailah's car is makin' a noise," A noise? That could be anything. Women don't know shit about cars, I swear.
///
"Care to elaborate?" I notice Lala shift around again. What's her fucking deal?
"Don't listen to Lil. I said I'll figure it out. I know you guys around here have better things to do anyway," she says softly.
"Lala?" Here yes shift down and she still won't look at me.
"Can you guys please just drop it already?
"Nope. I'll be outside looking for a noise that you don't wanna seem to elaborate on."
"I can't afford to have it fixed right now, okay? Just let it go, please?"
"Make me lunch babe, ‘n we're good." I was gonna make Lil do it anyway.
Turning to Lil I ask, "Where's the car at?"
"At the college." Is she fucking kidding me? I would have assumed she drove it here. "Why is it at the school? How'd she get here?"
Lil gives me a big, sneaky fucking smile. She's obviously leaving some of the story out, sneaky bitch. I wouldn't be surprised if she sabotaged the car as an excuse to get Lala here, just to show me she's not giving up on making Lala my old lady.
"It wouldn't start so I picked her up." She thinks she's so smart.
Sticking my head out the door I holler for Kash.
"Kash! Get the tow. Let's go pick up a hoopty."
****
The car is not worth my time. I spent an hour doing a diagnostic, which only provided more shit than I had started with before hooking it up. I spent two more hours hunched over, head under the hood, not finding a damn thing worth fixing. This piece of shit is a scrapper. I'd rather junk the fucker and break Lala's heart than have her roll around in this death trap. Hell, the next time she started it up, it could have exploded.
The only thing this car still has going for it is that the doors open, the dome light and windshield wipers work, and it has one functioning seatbelt. That's it. It's a grade a piece of shit.
"Where's Lil ‘n Lala?" I ask Peaches. She points to the kitchen. I might as well give Lala the news that her sorry ass car is on its way to being scrapped as we speak.
Walking to the door, I hear both Lil and Lala chatting, so to catch a little bit of their conversation, I wait outside the door, eavesdropping like a fucking girl.
"Is he crazy? Got issues? It seems like everyone keeps their distance from him. They even look at him like they are just waiting for him to blow up or something." Lala asks Lil.
Issues? What the fuck? Yeah, I'm crazy. A dick? Sure. Issues? Fuck no. I'm not some Ted Bundy type of motherfucker, I just don't like to be fucked with and people know that just by looking at me.
"Nah, Rampage is one of the good guys. He certainly knows how to be a prick, they all are, but he truly is one of the best guys you could ever meet. He's good people," Lil says with a laugh.
"He always seems a bit distant. Sometimes it's like he's not even interested in what we talk about. I can't tell if it's just his way, or if he just doesn't find me interesting enough to have any real conversation with, but regardless, he's always nice to me. Maybe he doesn't want to hurt my feelings? And if that's it, I think that's sweet … he's sweet." Lala confides, getting another laugh from Lil.
Sweet? Not interested? Never, but hearing her say I'm sweet puts that stupid fucking smile on my face. Someone needs to start beating the shit out of me ‘cause I'm turning into a goddamn pussy over this bitch.
"Girl, once you get to know him, he talks all the fucking time." Lil reassures her.
A hard hand lands on my shoulder with a smack, startling the shit out of me.
"The fuck ya creepin' ‘round for?" Tank asks me. Shrugging his hand off of my shoulder, I glare at him. I hate when people sneak up on me and he knows that shit. It's how people end up bleeding.
"Not creepin', asshole."
Looking at me and then back toward the kitchen he says, "'Coulda fooled me. You're either creepin', or you're into that girly gossip shit."
"Shut the fuck up, Tank. You lookin' to get your ass kicked?"
"Ah, so it's the gossip you're into, brother. You want me to get some tea ‘n shit. We could brush each other's hair, share our secrets … "
"Fuck you, motherfucker."
"No thanks. You're not my type, brother."
Tank shoves me through the door and into the kitchen. Lil and Lala are sitting at the breakfast bar and all I can do is stare at Lala. I don't know if it's just me, but she gets hotter every fucking time I see her. I've never seen a woman who could wear baggy sweats, an old t-shirt, and not a scrap of makeup look so goddamn gorgeous. This girl makes that shit look sexy as fuck. Usually I like my bitches trashy, big hair, fake tits, and thick makeup ‘cause that's what I'm used to. I'm chalking it up to the fact that it's just Lala. No other bitch would look that good in that shit and pull it off like her.
///
She looks up and gives me a genuine smile, showing me that she's happy to see me. A smile I only ever get from her. Instantly I start to feel guilty that I have to tell her that her car has been sent to its final resting place.