AN: I didn't proofread this excuse the typos and all that shit.
Wandering into a local bar and grill, Jamie's eyes lit up. "No way," she smiled, heading straight to the back of the establishment. Prince was right beside her every step of the way as they approached the arcade game that caught her eye.
"Pac-Man..." he muttered, "What you know about Pac-Man?"
"I know I can whoop yo ass," she challenged.
"That so?" He cocked a brow. "You're on. And when I finish tearing you up in Pac-Man, get ready to get ya behind handed to you in pool."
"You're on!"
⏭⏭⏭
Stuffing a french fry in his mouth he scowled as she sunk in another solid ball. This was their second game, best out of three. And here she was on her fourth ball.
"You good over there, fam?"
"I'm fine, just take your shot, already." Jamie leaned across the table, aiming for her solid, to the right corner pocket. "Would you come on..." he spoke just as she took her shot, breaking her concentration. The cue ball just tapped the side of the solid 7.
"Seriously!?"
"What," he shrugged. "It's not my fault you crack under pressure."
"You ain't shit," she scold, stepping away from the table. "Sore ass loser."
"Oh, I'm definitely the stuff, mama," he muttered as he strut around the pool table, looking for the right shot to take. With his eyes settling on the stripped 11, he leaned down on the table, ready to pocket it. "And I don't lose."
Watching the ball roll straight in the left pocket, she smacked her lips. "Fuck."
Jamie sat on a bar stool munching away on the basket of buffalo wings she'd ordered. She'd already determined that she'd lost the game by the time he pocketed the fourth ball. Now here he was, ready to pocket the 8 ball.
"You know, I was thinking, since it's June and all I should get something for winning." Jamie blankly stared. "I was thinking that maaaaybe, you'd give me a little something something."
"A little something something?"
"Yup."
"Im not sure what that is. Gotta be specific, sir."
He leaned over the pool table, taking aim. "Oh," he looked up from the table, "I'm sure we can figure out what I mean together." Effortlessly he shot the 8 ball into the pocket.
⏭⏭⏭
Making it back to the hotel, they'd showered together. Prince kissed her cheek, as Jamie stood in front of the mirror moisturizing her curls. With the towel loosely hangin around on his hips, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I just love your hair," he muttered, kissing her shoulder.
"Thanks, P," she stammered added more of the Cantu to her locks. "Maybe you should go natural. Rock a little Afro," she suggested. "I can see it now, you bringing back a bit of the 70s look."
"If you see that, natural ain't for me." Kissing her cheek he left her in the bathroom to finish her hair. Covering the last section of her in product, she followed him out, "what do you mean natural isn't for you? You'd like good, P. And your hair would be so healthy!"
"Woman, my hair is healthy," he chimed, slipping on his silk bottoms.
"Well, it'll be healthier. Much healthier."
