Page 47 of Certified to Handle You 3

I hated that I loved her…

The next day…

By the time I was up and movin’ around the room, Pressure and ‘Lo was knockin’ on the door. I had texted Pressure the hotel and room number this mornin’ cause I knew that nigga was gon’ wanna come see about me.

I opened the door with the towel still low on my waist. Pressure stood there with a duffel bag in his hand. ‘Lo was next to him with shades on, a blunt tucked behind his ear and that lazy look on his face like he had already decided he wasn’t finna do too much talkin’ in the hallway. Pressure looked me over, then lifted the bag a lil’.

“Brought you some clothes and all that other pretty nigga shit you use,” he said with a smirk while walkin’ past me into the room.

Kay’Lo followed behind Pressure and glanced around the room, but he ain’t say shit. He just took the chair by the window, stretched his legs out and rested his arms back like he was gettin’ comfortable. Pressure sat the duffel on the bed, then looked at me for a second.

I looked at the bag, then at him. “Appreciate it.”

He nodded once, and Kay’Lo pulled his phone out but ain’t really do shit with it. He just held it in his hand while the room stayed quiet for a minute.

I grabbed the bag and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m finna get myself together.”

“A’ight,” Pressure said.

Kay’Lo looked up at me. “Take yo’ time, nigga.”

I ain’t take long. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and rubbed some grease into my waves before brushin’ my hair down.

Pressure had packed my brush, my cologne, my face wash, drawers, socks and a few outfits like he had went through my bathroom and closet with Pluto standin’ somewhere nearby tellin’ him what I would need. It was crazy, but she knew me just as much as that nigga did.

When I walked back in the room with just my briefs on, Pressure and ‘Lo was sittin’ there quiet.

I fixed the band on my briefs, then slid on some dark pants and a black shirt. I pushed my feet into a pair of black designer kicks, sprayed on my cologne, slipped on my watch and grabbed my keys off the dresser.

“Where y’all tryna eat?” I asked. “And not Pressure spot. We done ran through that menu too many damn times.”

Pressure stood from the bed and fixed his shirt. “Bitch, you ain’t gotta eat at my shit.”

I nodded. “Good. I’m tryna be somewhere by the water.”

Kay’Lo pushed up from the chair and nodded. “That’s cool. “I’ll send the spot.”

We left the hotel in separate cars, and I was glad for that ‘cause I needed the ride by myself. My phone was back on now ‘cause I needed it, but I had it flipped over in the cup holder while I drove.

The restaurant Kay’Lo picked sat close to the water, tucked behind glass, palm trees and too much damn money. The hostess led us to a private table right by the water, and by the time we sat down, a server was already movin’ like she knew what it was. She asked what we wanted to drink, and Pressure ordered a bottle of Clase Azul Ultra like he was askin’ for water. Kay’Lo added some aged rum then told her to bring three glasses and a bucket of ice.

I ordered the wagyu tomahawk with lobster tail, truffle mashed potatoes and charred broccolini. Pressure got the lamb chops with king crab, saffron rice and oysters for the table, and Kay’Lo ordered jerk octopus, dry-aged ribeye and caviar toast. The server took everything down and kept it movin’.

After a while, the food came out, and for a minute, none of us said too much. That was the thing about bein’ around niggas who really knew you. They ain’t have to fill every space with noise just ‘cause some shit was wrong.

Pressure cut into his lamb chops, Kay’Lo poured liquor in his glass, and I sat back with my elbow against the arm of the chair, watchin’ my phone light up again like Sha’Nelle was somewhere pressin’ call with both hands.

Kay’Lo glanced at the screen and took a sip. “That’s her again?”

I ain’t look down at it. “Probably.”

Pressure reached for one of the oysters and shook his head. “She been at my house since last night, Renza.”

I sat back in my chair and rubbed my hand over my mouth. “She comfortable?”

“She quiet,” Pressure said. “Pluto got her.”

Kay’Lo shook his head. “That shit wouldn’t have made it past my livin’ room.”