Page 13 of The Ninth

“You not going to ask mine?”

“I don’t need to know your name to get you a drink.” The liquor boosted my confidence.

“Wait...say Chicago, water, and car real quick.”

“Chicago, water, car.”

“Aw, you a transplant. Never mind.”

Mac and the other bartender, Lola, started crying laughing. I walked away, slightly embarrassed and confused. Transplant?! What the fuck that mean!

Mac Daddy continued being the daddy of the bar while continuously checking on me too. At one point, each and every stool was filled with fine ass niggas glistening in the dark. Within eight minutes, they were all gone. She moved smoothly. She knew every single drink. The smile never left her face.

By the end of the night, Mac was up four bands. Apparently the bar girls only have to tip out the kitchen while everyone else tips us out. By this point, I was leaned over, drunk as hell. That’s how so much time passed before I realized Mac was arguing with a nigga and he was in her face.

I snapped up, walking and standing right against her shoulder. She’s only an inch taller than Cassie. Regardless, I’m not letting any man talk crazy or put his hands on any woman. Now women jumping women? Women violence period? I’m not fond of. But I will fuck this nigga up!

“BITCH, YOU A THOT!” the guy leaned over the counter, yelling in her face.

“BITCH?!” I yelled more loudly than I should’ve.

“Ya mammy a thot, bitch. On my soul, you got me FUCKED up, nigga!” Mac yelled back, even angrier than before.

Suddenly, two tall niggas walked in from the employee entrance. I could smell the first one before he even got close to us. He smelled clean, like expensive cologne, and a hint of weed. He had locs touching his shoulders, the brightest jewelry I’ve seen all night, and a t-shirt and jeans on. His skin was the sexiest dark chocolate. He was easily one of the most handsome men I’ve seen since being in Chicago. Hell, Jeffersonville and Louisville too.

Like it was his job, he just yanked the nigga up by his collar. Him and his friend yelled in his face. My mouth dropped open as they took everything off of him, giving it to Mac. I watched them beat his ass before kicking him out like Uncle Phil did Jazz.

“Are y’all okay?” Cassie asked us both. She tipped the three of us out while stepping to the back, speaking with MacKenzie. I was so happy to see she had her things, ready to go. I gotta get the hell up out of here.

“IF HE SUES, JUAN PAYING FOR IT!” Liv said as she sped past the bar.

I watched as who I’m guessing is Juan made his way back to the bar. Even this nigga’s walk was sexy as fuck. I couldn’t help the way my lip found its way between my teeth. The way my thighs clinched together. Even better? He walked directly towards me.

He looked behind me briefly and then into my eyes. The smell of him caused a small moan to play on my lips. He smiled, showcasing diamonds.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded my head quickly, “I’m okay.”

“Can you scoot to the left? Your right.”

My face scrunched up, confused. He just smiled patiently while my brain computed what was being asked of me. I obeyed, scooting to the right. That’s when I realized it. He didn’t come to the bar just to speak to me. He didn’t come to the club period for any reason at all but one.

“Cassandra...”

“Juan...”

“Come give me a kiss, right now. I don’t give a fuck who’s around.”

A smile played on her lips as she stood up from the counter she was casually leaning against. I realized she watched our entire interaction. Her little ass flew into his arms. He pulled her over the bar and into his chest. In front of everyone, they kissed as if they were newlyweds.

Man, what the fuck?!

Chapter 3: Juan and Me

Cassie’s POV

“Swear on your life you gon fuck me good later...” I moaned in Juan’s ear as he sucked on my chest.