***Just in case you've been under a rock and don't know who Aug's three neices are, they are in the M/M. And can I also say, y'all comments give me so much life. All of you have been so supportive throughout my writing journey. I'm not perfect, I hope to grow, and you guys are the reason why. Okay to the story. ****
AMBER P.O.V. –
August came to pick me up at exactly five o’ clock, like he said. That’s one thing I noticed about him, he was never late.
The car ride was filled with nothing but small talk though. Both of us avoiding discussing what happened earlier.
We knew we needed to talk about it, but now wasn’t the time. So our conversation consisted of the regular stuff. Me asking about his exam. Him saying he did well. Him asking me about my day at work. Me saying Christina was getting on my last damn nerve as usual.
Before we headed to his nieces dance recital, Aug had to stop to get gas. As he pumped the gas, I answered a few work emails on my phone.
I heard a knock on the window causing me to look up from my phone.
“You want something?” Aug asked getting his receipt from the machine.
I shook my head no and returned to answering my emails. After I was finished, I looked at my watch. It seemed August had been in the gas station forever.
Bored, I turned on the radio. Trey Songz – Foreign filled the car. I really didn’t care for Trey, but for some reason, I couldn’t keep this song out of my rotation.
American you know I had to cop that foreign (cop that foreign)
American you know I had to cop that foreign
(She got on a bad bikini, when we in the Lamborghini)
Feeling the song I started to sing and dance in my seat. However my dance party was interrupted by Mr. Party-Pooper getting in and changing the station.
Migos – Fight Night blasted from the radio instead as we pulled out the gas station.
“Open this for me.” He handed me a grape Arizona Iced Tea he bought. I opened it, handed it to him and changed the radio back to Trey.
And she be like "Ay que rico" when I'm going real deep though
You can give me all of them besos, just stay low, do what I say so
“Don’t touch my radio.” He turned back to Migos.
“I wanna hear Trey. That’s my song.” I reached for the radio.
He shooed my hand away. “And Niggas in hell want ice water. Don’t touch my shit.”
He took a sip of his Arizona.
“Are you mad because Trey sing better than you?” I said joking with him.
“Please. That nigga sound like a fucking billy goat.”
He mocked Trey’s voice, purposely singing bad.
Yo side, Yo side, Yo side, Yo side, Yo side,
Yo...On yo side of the bed
“Don’t do Trey.”
“What the hell is a Yup!”
“That lets you know Trigga is in the building.”
“Shit sound stupid.”
“You sound jealous to me.”
