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“See, that’s some useful advice,” I replied, pointing toward him. “Unlike these other useless ass muthafuckas.”
“Fuck what you talking. I gotta wife, nigga.” Buck smirked.
Saint lifted his glass.
“To our little brother finally growing the fuck up,” he announced.
“Aye, nigga, don’t start that shit little brother shit,” I warned.
“Shit, I am the oldest,” he replied, laughing.
“You older than that nigga,” Joni pointed out. “I’m still big dog round this muthafucka.” He smirked.
“Damn, Harlan. You gone let them niggas son you like that?” Buck instigated. “Couldn’t be me. Them niggas know better.” He pointed to his brothers.
“You ain’t gone do shit but run and tell Mommy with your crybaby ass,” Kilo joked and we erupted in laughter.
“Says the nigga scared of his wife. Thugga be in there beating your big ass.”
“Like Nic don’t be upside your shit,” Stacks joined in. “And before you start… I’m very much afraid of my wife. I’on know no nigga that ain’t… including your ignorant ass.”
All the men agreed.
“I saw my wife beat her ex-nigga and his bitch with a steel bat. I’on want no part of that shit,” Saint revealed.
“Nigga, you need a program or some shit because her little ass is violent,” I countered.
“Tell her that,” he shot back.
I shook my head while everybody laughed. Finding out Saint was our biological brother hadn’t changed much between us, but that nigga had definitely gotten more comfortable talking his shit.
***
“Bruh, how the fuck you supposed to pick one ring out of all these?” I questioned, looking over the selection the jeweler had laid out in front of us.
“Man, just find something you know Gabi gone like,” he replied with a laugh.
I shook my head and picked up one of the rings, examining it before looking toward the jeweler.
“Let me see what else you got. I want something that’ll stand out, but nothing too flashy,” I explained.
He nodded and reached for another tray.
“Alright, I got a few more options. Tell me what you think about these,” he said, setting them in front of us.
I looked over the rings before picking up an oval-cut diamond with a thick band. It was nice, but I couldn’t picture Gabi wearing it.
“Nah, this ain’t it,” I told him, putting it back.
Joni pointed toward another one.
“What about that one right there?” He questioned.
I picked it up and turned it under the light. The diamond was beautiful, but the setting was too busy for what I wanted.
“Too much going on with this one,” I replied.
The jeweler reached into the display case and brought out a smaller box.
