The Lessons We Learn (FWB Book 2)

by Alexandra Warren

  “It’s not that big of a deal. I can get it Monday at work.” - Jayla

  “Nah, this is a personal matter, so I’m not bringing it to work. If you want it, you gotta come by the crib and get it. ;)” - Khalid

  “Oh, he thinks he’s slick,” I thought with a grin, typing out the solution I knew he wasn’t trying to hear.

  “Then I’ll come by tomorrow morning and get it.” - Jayla

  “It might be in a donation box by then, shorty. Just swing back by real quick.” - Khalid

  Knowing his cousin was there, going back to Khalid’s wasn’t really an option; though it probably should’ve been since having company around was the only thing that would keep me from pouncing on his ass now that I knew what he was working with. And just the thought of getting another fix had me firing off a text I’d surely regret in the morning.

  “Or you could just drop it off here…?” - Jayla

  Waiting for a response had me anxious, mainly because I didn’t want Khalid thinking I was taking advantage of the circumstances. I mean, he was clearly wide open, and I was just… working on it, meaning while I might’ve been ready for more of the physical, the idea of anything beyond that wasn’t on my personal agenda. But according to his reply, he seemed to be on the same page.

  “If I come by your place, this jacket ain’t the only thing I’m droppin’ off, Jayla.” - Khalid

  By now, I was practically gnawing a hole through my lip, typing out a quick reply before I finally got out of the car.

  “You sound so sure. ;)” - Jayla

  Tucking my phone into my purse, I made sure I got myself into my apartment safely - and without any annoying bouquets from Jason - before I checked for a response.

  “Because I am sure. So what’s up?” - Khalid

  His arrogance had me hot all over again, leaning into the countertop for support as I calculated how much time I had to freshen up before he’d be arriving. But there wasn’t even a second thought when it came to texting him my address with a reminder to bring my jacket.

  &

  The sexy smirk on Khalid’s face when I opened the door told me I had made the right decision in inviting him over - and the right decision of changing into something a little sexier.

  My silk robe was tied at the waist over a lingerie set I hadn’t pulled out in far too long, my furry Fenty Puma Rihanna slides which Jamila referred to as “dick-appointment slippers” were on my feet to let him know I meant business, and yes, even my wig was straightened, secured, and ready for action.

  It was the first thing Khalid commented on, pinching my chin as he teased, “Awww. You fixed your hair just for me to come over here and fuck it up again. How cute.”

  Slapping his hand away with a giggle, I let him inside, adding an extra sway to my hips since I knew he was watching even when I threatened, “Keep talking and I might not wear my wig at all.”

  He caught up to my steps to pull me back against him, wrapping his arms low around my waist and growling into my ear, “You think I really give a damn about a wig when you got all this goin’ on? Take it off, hang it up, put a bonnet on, do whatever you gotta do, shorty. I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

  I turned around in his hold with another little giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck when I told him, “For someone with hair, I find it hard to believe you really don’t care about it as much as you claim you don’t.”

  “You see how scruffy my shit is right now, don’t you? I already told Londyn earlier, I’m just about ready to cut it all off,” he replied so plainly that his words almost didn’t register in my head.

  But once they did...“What? No! I mean, your locs are like... apart of your brand now. And I haven’t even gotten a chance to pull on them yet,” I told him, playfully giving some of the back ones a slight tug as a preview of what I really wanted to do.

  Instead of flinching, he only smirked. “That’s a little selfish of you, Ms. Mitchell. Valid, but selfish.”

  “If I don’t look out for me, then who will?”

  “Right now? Me. But tomorrow? I can’t call it,” he replied in a way that fell heavy on my chest.

  In fact, it was so heavy that I pulled away from him, asking out loud, “Why’d that honesty feel so brutal?”

  The question was more for myself than Khalid since I wasn’t sure why it affected me at all. I mean, that was what I wanted, so it really should’ve been music to my ears. But it made sense once Khalid followed me to answer, “Cause you know I’d do whatever for you, but you’re too scared to accept it. So you’d rather fight the war of this world solo-dolo instead of just letting me be the one looking out for you.”

  Just like that, all the sexual energy I started with had turned emotional in a way that I wasn’t ready for, Khalid’s rawness doing a number on my heart that had no business being involved. But I suppose after dealing with someone who made up the stupidest of lies day in and day out, to have someone be completely honest and straightforward was… refreshing.

  And it made me want to reciprocate.

  So I laid it all out there, grabbing his hands when I expressed, “Khalid, look. I really do like you. It’s just… I’m not really looking for anything serious right now, and it seems like you are. And I don’t want to give you the wrong impression by letting this become a thing if you’re expecting it to be more. I lost a lot of what I thought I knew about myself with the move and the divorce, and I guess I just need some time to… learn the new me. By myself.”

  It was a strange predicament; being on the verge of turning thirty but somehow also being a beginner in so many ways, figuring out who I really was and what I wanted to be, navigating my personal life as a single woman and my professional one as the “new girl”, discovering the various changes in my body and with my sexuality. But they were all things I was excited about, and I could only hope Khalid would understand; though I would be just fine if he didn’t since this was about me and only me.

  After my spiel, the silence between us was long and thick to the point where I just knew Khalid was getting ready to bolt out of the door. But to my surprise, he brought a gentle hand to my cheek, offering a little smirk once he finally replied, “Just be my homie for now. We can do that whole fallin’ in love thing later.”

  The smile that grew to my face in response felt premature without confirming, “So we’re good?”

  “Yes, boss lady. We’re good,” he answered with an enthusiastic nod before slowly pulling me back against his chest into a hug.

  It felt great to be in his arms, and especially great to have his support. But now that we were on the same page, it felt more appropriate to ask, “So… can we get to what you came over here for, or...?”

  “Yeah,” he replied, reaching back to grab whatever he had left by the door then shoving it into my hands. “Here’s your jacket.”

  “Quit fuckin’ with me, Khalid,” I scolded, his laugh in response reverberating throughout the front room as I tossed the jacket to the side. “What’s so funny?”

  “Seeing you at work on your uppity negro shit and then seeing you off the clock, drinking, talking shit, tryna fuck and all that. It’s mad cute,” he answered with a little tug at the bow that was keeping my robe closed.

  I caught it just before it opened so that I could have his full attention when I defended, “First of all, I’m never on some uppity negro shit. I keep it professional, yes. But I’m no one’s Auntie Tom. Second of all, I’m not trying to fuck you. I am about to fuck you.”

  He laughed again. “See what I mean. Even when you want some dick, you make it sound proper. Not that I’m against it; obviously. I’m just stating an observation. It’s cute.”

  “Well, what am I supposed to say that’s less cute, and more, you know I’m about to snatch your black ass soul?” I asked, letting the robe peek open just enough to make it clear I wasn’t on any “cute” shit.

  The glimpse earned me an appreciative, “Damn” before he licked his lips to reply, “I don’t know.
Put some of that bad bitch swag you always braggin’ about in your Instagram captions on it.”

  “Ahh, so I have to be Natasha Fierce to get your attention?” I asked with a sly grin, flipping the front of the robe back to fully unveil what I had going on underneath; an ensemble that definitely fit within the Natasha Fierce guidelines.

  This time, Khalid couldn’t keep his hands off me, his fingers gently grazing my abdomen when he answered, “You already have my attention, Jayla. But who the hell is Natasha Fierce?”

  Between my groans in response to his touch, I managed to explain, “Beyoncé has Sasha Fierce. My alter ego is her cousin, Natasha Fierce.”

  With a sexy chuckle, he moved his fingers from my stomach to my ass, giving it a full squeeze when he asked, “So when I’m hittin’ this from the back in a couple minutes, am I supposed to call you Jayla or Natasha?”

  “Do you have an ex, or someone who thought she was an ex, named Natasha?”

  The question came from a dark place, back when Jason would call me the names of different women he claimed were from his past when his slip-ups were really based on whatever out of town flavor of the week he called himself dealing with. But Khalid wasn’t Jason. And as if to punish me for even comparing the two in my head, he gave me a hard smack on the ass that made me squeal before he answered, “Can’t say that I do.”

  “Then I’ll let you pick. But I’ll be damned if you mix me up with one of your other chicks,” I warned, taking the opportunity to set the record straight while things were still new; something I hadn’t done with Jason, wholeheartedly believing I didn’t need to.

  Once again, Khalid reminded me that they weren’t at all the same person, frowning when he replied, “Never that,” before leaning in to whisper against my lips, “Ain’t none of them got it like you, baby.”

  With my bottom lip pulled between my teeth, I whispered back, “In that case, come fuck me like your career depends on it.”

  “Well damn, Natasha,” he blurted with a nervous laugh, only making my grin grow even more mischievous once I put on faux-innocence to ask, “Too much?”

  “Considering part of my career is really in your hands? Absolutely.”

  I was sure he assumed me asking meant I would let up if he felt overwhelmed. But really, his answer only made me feel that much more empowered in my decision to let this happen, my inner-bad bitch fully activated when I dropped my robe to reply, “Well… you better fuck me like you mean it then.”

  Khalid

  “I bet this is how Nick Cannon felt when he first bagged Mariah Carey. Khalid, you’re Nick.”

  I knew Londyn was trying to be funny, so I didn’t give her the laugh she was hoping for in response to her little jab at Jayla and I finally hooking up, instead keeping the phone in front of me with an annoyed look as I watched her navigate rush hour traffic from her car mount. It had become a part of our normal routine now that she lived in a different city; a FaceTime call to check-in while she was headed home from work and I was getting ready to go to work. But if I played my cards right, the routine would soon be changing, something I wanted to run past her first since I really did value her opinion.

  “Speaking of Nick Cannon, you know how he has all those different hustles, right?”

  “Yeah, the dude is everywhere,” she replied before going into a road-rage fit about someone cutting her off; a road-rage fit that included threats of running the man’s dick over with all four of her tires and then slashing his.

  Even with the move to the city, the girl hadn’t lost an ounce of her crazy. And once she finally settled back down, I continued, “Well, I’m thinking that could be me too; thinking about quitting my job and moving my brand to the real entertainment sector.”

  Now that the money from all of the sponsored posts and ads was steadily flowing in, leaving my security job and taking my talent to a bigger platform only made sense to me. And while I wasn’t exactly sure how I would go about making the move, just the thought of the different possibilities had me excited enough to do my own research; though Londyn wasn’t onboard quite yet according to her skeptical expression.

  “Is this your idea or Jayla’s?”

  Frowning, I answered, “It’s mine. I haven’t even talked to her about it yet.”

  Truthfully, there hadn’t been much talking between Jayla and I lately, except for the normal business stuff which we usually did at the job. But any moment we spent together outside of the job was more moans and groans than anything since Jayla couldn’t get enough of me.

  Or we couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Either way, I wasn’t complaining about our new circumstances, enjoying every minute of just being in her presence in any way she’d have me. But those good vibes were overshadowed by the somber expression on Londyn’s face when she said, “Look, Khalid. I know I’ve been telling you for years, your personality was made for entertaining. And now that you have what looks to be a profitable following, I’m sure plenty of companies would be more than willing to take a chance on you. But if you want to last in this industry, I think a move like that might be a little premature.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t believe in me?”

  Her face immediately scrunched in disgust. “Are you serious right now? Of course, I believe in you! I believed in you when you didn’t even believe in your damn self. I’m just sayin’, jumping ship from your steady income now that you’re finally in a good place financially might not be the best move at this particular moment. Now does that mean you can’t take a little hosting gig here and there to test the waters? Absolutely not. In fact, I’d encourage that. But until you can support yourself and your irresponsible spending habits with just the money from the side gig, I think you should stay right where you are and let it grow organically.”

  It was tough to take her advice, but I knew it was coming from a genuine place even when I whined, “That shit is trash though, LoLo. I feel like I’m wasting time there that I could be spending doing different gigs, taking meetings, and all that.”

  “The only way you’re wasting time is if you’re choosing to waste time. And considering you work nights and have full access to Al Gore’s internet while you’re on the clock just like the rest of us, it’s a choice, bruh.”

  “Tough yet again,” I thought in my head with a sigh, nodding when I told her, “You’re right. I hear you.” And I really did understand what she was saying, was grateful for her talking me off the ledge of what could’ve easily been the mistake that sent me right back to square one. But I also couldn’t help roasting myself a little bit once I added, “I’m supposed to be the older one of us two, but you stay putting me up on game when it comes to this kinda shit.”

  From the beginning, Londyn had always been the one trying to keep me on the straight and narrow, whether it was school, jobs, relationships, or something in between. And any time I didn’t take her advice, it almost always came back to bite me in the ass later. But it was part of why I appreciated her so much more now, valued the fact that she wasn’t a bullshitter and always had my best interest at heart even when she shrugged to insist, “Girls mature faster than boys. It’s science, Khalid.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pushed out, “Anyway. What are you cookin’ Chance for dinner tonight?”

  It was more of a joke than anything since I knew how Londyn felt about traditional gender roles and knew her and Chance mostly shared those types of responsibilities. But she still gave me full attitude when she snapped her head back and asked, “You mean, what is he cooking for me? He gets one pass a night; either I cook for him, I clean for him, or I fuck him. And only one of those he can’t do for himself the way that I can, so I’m sure you can guess which one he chooses more often than not.”

  The little jig she added told me more than I cared to know, shaking my head as I mumbled, “Nasty ass. But lemme get to work. I’ll hit you later.”

  Before I could end the call, she shouted, “Wait! You never gave me the full scoop on you and Jay
la. I mean, I know you’re her client with filthy benefits now, but that’s it?”

  Shrugging, I answered, “For now, yeah. I’m not tryna push it.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was scare Jayla off by trying to do too much, especially after she had made it clear that that wasn’t what she was looking for at the moment. And I was more than content playing the role of whatever she needed me to be until she figured out what she wanted.

  Apparently, I was being a little too selfless according to Londyn when she expressed, “But that’s not even what you want, so why’d you agree to it?”

  “I’m just easing my way in, LoLo. That’s all,” I told her, standing firm in my decision to go with the flow.

  But just because I felt firm in my decision didn’t mean Londyn wouldn’t try to challenge it, quick to suggest, “So how about you ease in a little further by asking her out on a real date?”

  “First, you talk me off the ledge. Now, you push me to the edge.”

  Of course, she started singing like Lil Uzi Vert, “All my friends are… sorry.” Catching herself to get back to the point when she said, “But seriously, Khalid. There’s nothing wrong with having a good time outside of the bedroom, or wherever the hell y’all do it at. In fact, it’ll only make the sex that much more exhilarating.”

  “Says the girl who didn’t go out in public with my nigga Chance until they went outta town together,” I reminded her with a look that dared her to say more.

  Somehow, she did, belting out an enthusiastic, “Look at us now, though! Happy, thriving, hashtagging all of our Instagram pictures with corny shit. Trust me, Khalid. I’m speaking from experience here.”

  Her claims were all valid, and little did she know, Chance was just about ready to propose to her. But considering how much I admired the relationship they had, I would’ve been foolish not to believe she could be right. So instead of going back and forth with her about it, I asked, “Where do you think I should take her?”