When A Playboy Loves

|| 31.

King

Seconds, minutes, maybe hours, passed. I didn't know how long I stayed inside the car, eyes glued to the seat Uti just vacated. I took another look in the direction which she walked off, waiting for her to come back and offer some sort of explanation for acting the way she did. Nothing like that happened. I dialled her number, it rang for less than a second before the call ended. I scoffed, she blocked me, she fucking did.

There was a tap on the window, Junior's face came into view. I hissed. It was his idea from the start and Tomiwa, albeit grudgingly, gave his blessings. He shouldn't have. She fucking blocked me. Me.

My fingers hovered above the buttons on my side of the car, hesitant to let him in. He knocked again and I stared wistfully at him, watching his lips move and his hands raise in a questioning manner. When he knocked a third time, I finally let the windows down.

"Guy, what's up? What's wrong with you?" He bent till his shoulder was through the open window of my car. "How did it go?"

How did it go?

"She blocked me," I muttered, still in a bit of shock. I was always the one doing the blocking, never the other way around. I ran my hands through my face as if that would miraculously clear my confusion. "Women are something else, so complicated." 

Way too complicated for me to try and understand them. I should probably stick to only fucking them, at least I was good in that aspect. It also didn't require that much talking, just satisfactory moans and groans.

"I'm leaving, are you coming?" I was only telling him because I was his ride home. This was a stupid idea to begin with and I had learnt one lesson today, never take love advise from a fellow playboy.

What more did she want? I have never willingly offered to start a family with any woman, let alone ask them to move in with me and the best she could do was ask me to stay away from her. I shook my head, I would fucking stay away from her.

Junior banged on the side of the car, "King ... Guy, open up." I murmured an apology and he took one step back for the door to open.

"How did it go?" He reiterated his question when he was seated, casting glances at me. 

His fingers drummed on the dashboard and he gesticulated with his left hand for me to speak up. I paused, uncertain about sharing her response with him. I shrugged, it was largely his fault. Next time I would tell him to shove his suggestion far up his ass.

"Not good," I replied, trying to forget that cold, unforgiving glare she sent my way before hopping out of the car. "She's done, I'm done. It's over. Can we go now?"

His drumming on the dashboard seized and he rubbed his hands aggressively against his trousers like a recovering crack addict. Dude was shocked, he actually expected his plan to have worked, as did I.

"How can you be done? What did she say?" He turned sharply to me like I was to blame. "What did you tell her? What did you do?"

My heads quickly went up in surrender, how was it my fault? Matching his cold, death-like stare, I said, "I didn't do nothing, she said I should stay away from her." 

The sides of my head pounded as I went over her last words. My index and middle fingers worked their way to my throbbing temple, trying to drown her voice out. Stay away from me. I scoffed. I could do that, I would do that, I needed to fucking do that.

"Is that all?" Junior asked and I nodded. "You didn't say anything to her, she just said you should stay away from her?"

When he put it that way, it sounded bogus. I shook my head, thinking of the right words.