Page 43 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

She got quiet for a second, and then she smiled that smile again, the one that took over her whole face.

We sat there and just talked. I put some music on real low, some Isley Brothers, and we kept sipping until the bottle was doing more talking than either of us.

Somewhere around two in the morning, I noticed her yawning behind her hand.

"You tired, love?"

"No," she said, yawning again mid-word.

"You a lie."

"I'm not tired. I'm just resting my eyes for a second." She was already leaning back into the cushions. "Keep talking."

So, I kept talking. Told her about an old song I couldn't finish, the one I said I wanted her opinion on in the first place, and how the hook felt fake to me and I ain't know why.

She was saying something about how maybe I was writing it for who I used to be and not who I was now, which was probably the most accurate thing anybody said to me…ever. I turned to tell her that, and she was out.

Head tilted toward my shoulder, mouth barely open, one hand still curled around her empty glass on her lap. I took it out her hand real careful and set it on the table. She shifted, and her head came the rest of the way down onto my shoulder, and she sighed in her sleep and got comfortable.

I ain't move her.

I sat there with the music still going while this woman I’d just met today was sleeping on me. I ain't even try to fight it. My eyes got heavy too and the next thing I knew I was outta there.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

I jumped out of my sleep and blinked a few times. The living room was lit up, bright as hell, sun coming straight through them big-ass windows because I’d forgotten to close the curtains before falling asleep.

Noree was still asleep on me, curled up now with her legs tucked under her and her arm across my stomach. I eased out from under her as slow as I could and put a pillow where I was. She frowned in her sleep, but she ain't wake up. She was pretty even while sleeping, but I ain’t have time to dwell since somebody kept banging on my shit.

BANG, BANG.

"Aight, damn," I mumbled.

I ran my hand down my face and went to the door, opened it, and it was Ginger standing there in a pink and purple yoga fit, hair up in a ponytail.

"Good morning," she said, stepping forward like she was coming in.

I put my hand on the doorframe and blocked it. "Nah."

She stopped and removed her AirPods like that was about to make her hear better. She looked at my arm, looked at me, then tried to look past me into the room. "Excuse me?"

"I'll come by your room in a second."

"Why?" she said, and her face was all screwed up. "Ozy, why can't I?—"

I sucked my teeth. I hated repeating myself. "Aye, let me get myself the fuck together, Gin. You trippin'."

And I closed the door.

I shook my head, then turned back around into the room.

Noree was up. Sitting up on the couch with her arms stretched over her head and her back arched, one sleeve of her dress halfway down her arm. She caught me looking, dropped her arms, and smiled.

"Good morning."

I smiled back. Couldn't help it. "Good morning, love.”

She stood up and started pulling her dress down over her hips, and I ain't even try to hide it. My eyes went from her feet all the way back up. Slow. The morning light looked good on her.