Page 1 of Certified to Handle You
The Black Diamond Suite
A nigga still couldn’t fuckin’ believe I got caught up in some bullshit like this.
I sat on the edge of the hotel bed with my elbows on my knees, lookin’ around the suite like the walls was supposed to explain somethin’ to me. My head was poundin’, my mouth was dry, and every time I tried to grab hold of what happened last night, the memory slipped off like my brain was checked the fuck out.
I remembered the reception… I remembered the drinks, and I remembered everybody laughin’ and actin’ a damn fool after ’Lo and Toni left, but after a certain point, the whole night turned into a blur.
Then Pressure came to mind, and my face twisted up before I could even stop it.
That nigga walked around with them damn cupcakes like he was doin’ community service, talkin’ ’bout they was from the weddin’ and everybody needed to try one. That alone should’ve told me he was on some bullshit ’cause Pressure ain’t never care if a nigga ate dessert or not. He ain’t even offer people water unless they was bleedin’ or about to die, so why the fuck would he suddenly be passin’ around cupcakes with that stupid ass grin on his face?
At the time, I ain’t think too much into it ’cause I was already drunk enough to where anything seemed regular. But now that I was sittin’ in a hotel suite with my clothes still on and Sha’Nelle layin’ beside me, snorin’ like somebody’s grown uncle after a Sunday plate, I knew somethin’ wasn’t right.
I looked over at her again and just stared.
Sha’Nelle was knocked the fuck out with her hair spread over the pillow and one leg bent under the blanket like she had made herself real comfortable in a room neither of us was supposed to be wakin’ up in. Her mouth was parted a lil’, and that snore kept comin’ out loud and disrespectful, like she had no shame in her sleep at all. I frowned ’cause this shit was already crazy enough without her soundin’ like a lawn mower beside me.
“Nelle,” I called, keepin’ my voice low at first ’cause my head was already hurtin’ and I wasn’t in the mood to be loud.
She ain’t move, so I sat here for a second, lookin’ toward the ceilin’ like God had personally set me up. “Sha’Nelle,” I said again, a lil’ louder this time.
Her ass kept snorin’.
I leaned over and tapped her arm, and before I could even get my hand back, she woke up swingin’ like she had been to war in her dreams. I ducked back quick as hell, and her fist cut through the space where my face had just been.
“Aye girl!” I barked, scootin’ back while I balled my fist up just in case she tried to keep goin’.
Sha’Nelle blinked hard, lookin’ around the room like she ain’t know if she was on Earth or not. Her eyes went from the curtains to the dresser, then to the bed, then finally landed on me. The second she realized who she was lookin’ at, her whole face changed.
She pushed herself up and looked around real slow again. “What the hell goin’ on?”
“That’s what I’m tryna figure out,” I said, rubbin’ my hand over my face. “Say… I think we might’ve accidentally fucked.”
Sha’Nelle’s brows came together like I had just said the dumbest shit she ever heard in her life. She looked at me, then down at herself, then back at me again. I was still dressed and she was still in the same dress she had on last night, even though it was wrinkled as hell and sittin’ crooked on her body like the night had been rough on everybody involved.
She rolled her eyes and got out of bed. “Renza, please be fuckin’ serious. How the hell we have sex and we both still got our clothes on?”
I looked down at myself. “We could’ve got dressed after and forgot.”
She stopped walkin’ and looked back at me.
I looked right back at her ’cause I was dead serious. I ain’t know what drunk Renza was capable of, and that was what had me stressed. A nigga could wake up dressed after doin’ a lot of things. That ain’t clear nobody’s name to me.
Sha’Nelle stared at me for another second before she laughed under her breath. “Well yo’ dick must be small as fuck ’cause it don’t feel like we fucked.”
I looked at her and felt my whole face go blank. “Whatever,” I mumbled, turnin’ my head.
She laughed harder ’cause she knew she had gotten under my skin, but I wasn’t about to sit here and defend my dick to Sha’Nelle in a hotel suite when I had a woman. That sounded like a trap, and I wasn’t steppin’ in it.
I stood up and started pacin’ ’cause the guilt was already sittin’ on my shoulders, and I ain’t even know what the hell I was guilty of yet. That was the crazy part.
I ain’t remember touchin’ her, kissin’ her, or doin’ nothin’ out of line, but wakin’ up next to her was bad enough ’cause Reni wasn’t about to give a fuck about no technical details. All she was gon’ see was me in a hotel with another woman, and honestly, that sounded bad even in my own head.
“I think Pressure bitch ass drugged me,” I said, pointin’ toward nothin’ like he was standin’ there.
Sha’Nelle had already started toward the bathroom, and she glanced back at me like she was tryin’ not to laugh. “Drugged you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “That nigga gave me that cupcake, and now I’m in here with no memory. That sound like a setup to me.”
