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I snatched the phone from the security.
“Let me the fuck in,” I said.
“No.”
“We need to talk.”
“We’ve talked already.”
“Kyenna–” The line went dead.
I placed the phone back in the window.
“Aye, open this bitch, dawg.”
“Sir, you said.”
“I kno’ what the fuck I said, and this is an emergency,” I said, pulling my gun out.
He popped the gate open, and I drove up to the front of the house. Because of her incident a month ago, I still remember the code to get in the house. Kyenna was coming down the stairs in a pink silk gown.
“Okay, this shit is getting out of hand,” she fussed. “Why are you in my house?”
“You kno’ why I’m here.”
“I need you to say it,” she said.
She stood at the bottom step and was eye level with me.
“I can’t leave that shit where we left it earlier.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Do you need an explanation for every fuckin’ thing? Damn!”
“Meek, I’m not fucking up my life over something you ain’t man enough to say out loud. I’m a grown ass woman, and I thought you were a grown ass man.”
“Fine. I wanted to see you.”
“For?”
“I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout kissin’ you again since the first time you did it.”
Now that I had said the shit, she was standing before me shocked.
“I stayed away from that shit ‘cause you were fucked up that night. You were grievin’ and shit. I told myself the shit didn’t mean nothin’.”
“It didn’t mean anything,” she said.
“But tonight did.”
Kyenna looked away and then back at me.
“Shameek,” she said above a whisper.
“You weren’t drunk tonight or cryin’ over my brother. You knew when I touched you and kissed you that it was me, and you kissed me back.”
“I know what I did.”
