No Boyz Allowed by Ni-Ni Simone Read Free Book Online Page A

smiled from ear to ear and said to Pop, “It wasn’t even like that. As soon as Janay started smiling I told her to close her mouth.”
    “Don’t try me, G.”
    “Look at you,” he carried on, proudly. “Getting all mad. I just love it when you get that wrinkle in your nose.”
    Pop fought back a blush and rolled her eyes. “Mad? Puhlease. I ain’t mad!” she carried on but I could no longer focus on what she was saying, because something—or better someone —across the room had just snatched my attention away.
    I thought about turning away, but I couldn’t. I felt forced to look straight ahead and stare. I couldn’t help it. The cutie who stood across the room from me was soooo fine—that all I could think was goddamn . . . .
    He was 6’ 2”, wore a navy-blue Yankees snap back bent like a half a moon over his chestnut-colored eyes. His skin was the color of a Hershey’s Kiss, and his right arm was covered with a colorful tattoo sleeve. Sexy. And his gear was on point: slightly baggy skinny-jeans, a blue and white plaid button up, with the sleeves pushed over his elbows, and crisp white Jordans on his feet.
    As if on cue the D.J. played Monica’s “Anything (to Find You)” and he walked toward me.
    My stomach did four flips. I diverted my eyes from him and turned to the side.
    Breathe in . . .
    Breathe out . . .
    And chill...
    I turned back around and like a flash of light he’d disappeared.
    My heart jumped.
    “Gem.” Pop called my name as if she’d been calling me for a minute.
    I felt like I’d been in space. “Yeah?”
    Pop pointed to the middle of the living room floor where couples slow danced. “Me and G decided we couldn’t live without each other so we’re going over here to celebrate.”
    And before I could protest, say okay, or even ask her what she’d just said to me, they were already in the middle of the floor wrapped in each other’s arms, leaving me to wonder if I’d just gone crazy.
    I did my best to shake off my thoughts as I walked back toward the bar, glanced over my shoulder, and thought that maybe . . .
    Know what, I’m trippin’ . . .
    I placed my dollar on the bar, reached for my drink, and leaned against the wall.
    “Praying to see me,” drifted into my ears.
    I opened my eyes, swallowed, and fought with everything in me not to smile, but nothing stopped my eyes from dancing in delight. The corners of my lips crept their way toward a smile, but I managed to keep them turned down as I said, “Am I praying to see you? Not at all.” I sipped my drink. “But what I did pray, is that you weren’t stalking me.”
    Why did I say that?
    He smirked—a sexy smirk—but a smirk nonetheless . . . then he looked me over, leaned in, and stroked the right side of my face from my cheek to my chin. “Trust me, I’ma lot of things, Pretty Girl, but one thing I’m not is a stalker.”
    “And how would I know that?”
    Oh...my...God...Just when I thought I couldn’t get any dumber, my mouth sinks to an all-new low.
    I smiled, hoping that my cuteness would somehow erase his memory of what I’d just said.
    My heart thundered loudly and I wondered if he could hear it. I swear all of this was new to me.
    I sipped my drink and he smirked.
    This whole deal was going south real quick.
    “Know what? You’re way too beautiful for your mouth to be so slick. And maybe the next time a dude tries to kick it to you, you’ll have your mind right.” He hit me with a two-finger peace sign and left.
    Did he just call me crazy?
    I swallowed.
    Watched him disappear into the crowd.
    Maybe I shouldn’t have...
     
    “Everybody on the floor...!” Ciara’s throwback “1,2 Step” blasted through the D.J.’s speakers and I joined the line dance. A few minutes into it—and although I knew every step—from watching the video over and over again—my rhythm was off. And the last thing I wanted was to look stupid, again.
    I gave up the dance and headed toward the bathroom. Of course there