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Meanwhile, I had a fake ass fiancée who was probably blowin’ up my phone, and a stripper waitin’ for me to give her some dick. And I was really standin’ here, fist balled up at my side, ready to knock a nigga out of his platforms. It was time for me to wrap this shit up.

I fell back onto the couch and pulled out my phone. You know a nigga down bad when he on his phone in a club full of pussy. I checked my messages, and just like I knew, Ni texted me.

Ni: I see you caught up with Juicy. Ask her who pulls her pieces. Can’t find those boots anywhere.

Ni: And you love them strippers.

“This stupid bitch,” I said, takin’ another shot I didn’t need.

More strippers flooded the section. It was the distraction I needed. But they didn’t stop me from checkin’ to see who was on Juicy. Them niggas was all in her face, competing for her attention. She was over there controllin’ shit. Had them eatin’ up anything she said. They only had one stripper in the section ’cause they were too busy watchin’ her.

“Yo, Juv. Who that?” Don asked, droppin’ beside me.

I glanced at Juicy, then back at him. “Savannah.”

“Shid, she got a man? Don’t look like she fuckin’ wit’ them niggas.”

I ran my tongue against my cheek to keep from snappin’. “Don, you my mans… But when it comes to that one, nah. I don’t give a fuck ’bout no other bitch I fucked. All them hoes free game.”

I looked back at Juicy. “Not that one.”

He threw his hands up, laughin’. “Damn, patna. You got it. Act like you finna take a nigga head off. Stay the fuck away from Savannah. Got it.”

When I looked up again, Nubia was comin’ toward me with her purse slung over her shoulder, dressed in a pink tracksuit. She dropped in my lap as soon as she made it to me. I glanced at Juicy. She raised her brow and shook her head.

She mouthed, “Safe sex,” then went right back to partying. If I had a right to choose, I’d be fuckin’ her… RAW. But I was stuck wit’ a fuckin’ stripper who only left wit’ me ’cause I spent 100 bands in this bitch. I dapped Don and Rue, then left wit’ Nubia. I knew this shit would be in the blogs, but I didn’t give a fuck. Tonight, I was gon’ do whatever the fuck I wanted. That’s what PR teams were for. They’d clean this shit up.

My phone wouldn’t shut the fuck up. I was hot, my mouth was dry as a bitch, and my head was poundin’. Nubia was knocked out across my chest. Too fuckin’ comfortable for a bitch who shoulda been gone before I woke up. I cracked one eye open, lookin’ around to make sure I was at a hotel and not the crib. If this phone rang one more mufuckin’ time, I was throwin’ that bitch over the balcony.

I grabbed it from the nightstand and squinted at the screen.

Luke: Call me! Now!

Luke: This shit is everywhere!

Luke: TMZ has this shit. The blogs got video and photos!

Luke: Ever since you got back to Baltimore, you’ve been doing the fucking most! No discretion! None!

Luke: Call me before this gets out of hand.

I dropped my head back on the pillow and rubbed my eyes. “Man, fuck you, Luke.”

Another message came through before I could lock my screen.

Ni: You are so embarrassing.

Ni: You’re doing too much, JuMarion.

Ni: I don’t know why he sent you back to Baltimore. I should have known.

That one made me wake the fuck up. I ain’t know who these mufuckas thought they was talkin’ to, but it couldn’t be me at 8:30 in the mornin’. I looked down at Nubia, who was still sleepin’ peacefully like my phone wasn’t ’bout to catch fire.

I nudged her shoulder. “Aye.”

She didn’t even budge. I shook her harder and pulled the sheets back.

“Aye, bitch! You gotta get up and go.”