Still Up to Shenanigans

Saturday morning. I was at home pacing the living room. Chelsea was on her way to Orlando. I couldn’t believe it when Lisa said that Chelsea was contemplating moving in with this dude for good. It took forever for me to convince her to move in together and after only a couple of weeks, she was thinking about going to this dude’s crib to play house.

I was convinced that she was just doing this shit to get a reaction out of me. I had stopped sleeping with other women. I had not been with anyone since that shit popped off with Elise. I needed my girl. If this dude wanted me to challenge me, I had years of experience with Chelsea. He had two weeks. This was a game he’d lose miserably.

I grabbed my phone and sent him a message on Facebook, “Bro, I know you think you got Chelsea but trust me her heart belongs to me.”

I saw that he read the message. He didn’t respond. I sent another message, “Chelsea is my girl. I’m coming for what belongs to me.”

He read it and didn’t respond. I sent another message, “I know your bitch ass see these messages. What you too afraid to respond?”

Then he blocked me. I tossed my phone on the sofa and yelled, “Arrggggh, fuck.”

*******

That night, I went club hopping. I drank. I tried to find my soul at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. It was late. The bartender took my keys. He was tripping. I called Lisa to come to get me. After she fussed at me for a few minutes, she came.

I was sitting on the curb. She helped me into her ride and later drove off. I sat in her car miserable. I felt sick and not from all the ****. Just sick. I complained the whole drive to my apartment. When we got there, I realized I forgot to get my keys from the bartender.

By the time we went back, the place was already closed. Lisa was noticeably angry that she had to take me to her place for the night.

“Negro. You got me out here in my pajamas and a damn bonnet trying to help you. You need to get your shit together.”

“I’m sorry Lisa. Look at me. I’m sorry.” I fought back tears. She finally took pity on me. She handed me some tissues. I blew my nose.

“Look, I have company. Two of my friends are visiting from Mississippi. Please behave yourself and don’t come into my house with no noise, whining, cussing, or complaining.”

“I just need to sleep. Promise I’ll behave.”

We ended up at her house. I had been there before with Chelsea a few times so I was familiar with the floor plan, “Where do you want me to sleep?” I asked.

“The rooms are taken. Sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you a blanket.”

I took off my shoes, and shirt and laid back. She returned and handed me a light blanket and a fluffy pillow, “Thanks, Lisa.”

“Um-hm,” she replied before marching off.

I closed my eyes and it felt like I instantly was transported to another realm. I was having the craziest dream about me and Chelsea getting down like how we used to. The period when she stopped being timid and started allowing me to do more freaky shit to her.

It felt so good. So vivid. Like we were really fucking. Why was my mind playing games? I felt myself burst. I was having a damn wet dream. I hadn’t had one of those since before Chelsea and I got down. I didn’t bother getting up.

*******

I was resting peacefully. I reached down and felt my hard-on. My dick had dried cum all over it. It was time for me to get up and get Lisa to take me to the spot for my keys. I had to get cleaned up. But all I heard was, “Ashton, what the fuck?!”

I hopped up in a panic. I looked around. There was this chick sitting up in bed next to me naked, “who are you?” I asked her.

“Nakeisha get the fuck out here!” Lisa scolded the woman who slowly got out of bed with an attitude.

“I don’t see what the problem is…he said he broke up with his girlfriend.”

The door closed. She eyed me with disgust. Her nostrils flared. I looked for my pants and slid into them, “I don’t know what happened?”

She threw up her hand, “I’m tired. So, I know Chelsea must have been exhausted. You are just despicable.”

“You can’t hold this against me. You saw how drunk I was.”

“Yes. I did but who told you to get that drunk? At some point Ashton you need to take responsibility for your bullshit.”

“Can you take me to get my car?”

She shook her head.

“So, you’re not going to help me?”

“I’m done, Ashton. You have five minutes to get the hell out of my house.”

******

I stood outside waiting on an Uber. Shit was bad. I was pissed. Why did Chelsea have to be so unreasonable? Why did have to pull a stunt like that?

The Uber driver pulled up. I got in and went for my car.