In Love with a Dope Boy 2

Chapter 2

~Jayden~

Ayeonna's left side lay on top of me, while I laid back on my couch. We had just been chillin' on a day off; watchin' a rerun of Maury an episode broadcasting who was really a man, and who was really a woman.

We use to do this back in the day, before she ran to hell and brimstone.

We were just crackin' up over the audience reactions, while my baby would dip her spoon into a pint of vanilla beam ice cream, and lick it off. All that did was turn me on. She knew better. She knows she doesn't have to do much to get me up.

"What about this one, baby," she asked, pointing her spoon at the screen.

"Babe, that's a dude," I replied, crossing my arm around her chest.

"That's clearly a woman."

"No, I'm tellin' you, boo, that's a nigga! I seen punks in the cages that could fake bein' a chick better than he can. That's a nigga. He got a dick babe."

"Daddy, she's a woman," she laughed.

"We'll see." She reached up and kissed me, leaving me to look down at her, telling myself I loved this woman with every fiber of my being; every bone in my body craved for her.

Right before we were to hear the results of the true sex of these imposters and posers, after listening to bullshit ass training center and college commercials, a cell phone vibrated on the coffee table.

Neither of us knew who's it was. The bad side of having matching phones.

"I'll get it," Ayeonna giggled, reaching over to sit her pint down before answering.

"It's not registered," she said.

"Yonna," she told the caller.

"Hello?" Then she pulled the phone from her face to make sure the person was still on the line.

"Hello," she sang. "This is Ayeonna, who is this?... who?" Looking up at me, she handed me the phone and stared at me with grimace.

"Yea," I answered.

"Who the fuck just picked up yo' phone," Tonya asked me, annoyed and displeased.

"That was my fiance you spoke with," I replied honestly.

"Yo' fiance? You still tryna make shit happen with her? What about us, Jayden? I was there for you, not that bitch. I was the one to take yo' ass in when you got out, not her. I gave you nothin' but positivity every night you went to grind, and you think I'm suppose to sit back and watch this happen?

We were together for two years, and I can't get a decent 'hello' from my man. But it's cool. I'm comin' to the club tonight, 'cause we need to talk. And don't give me no bullshit talkin' bout you ain't gon' be there, 'cause I know you don't want me to come knock on your front door, do you?"

"Look," I finally huffed.

"The club opens at ten. If you're not scheduled, don't come, 'cause you ain't gon' make no money."

"I know I ain't... Oh I see... you tryna play shit off for yo' bitch."

"I'm not playin' at all. I understand the situation, but don't come if you don't have to. Bye." I didn't care about her, and I don't know why she's so attached to me.