DANGEROUSLY TOXIC : Jayoncé ? {COMPLETED}

Chapter 46


 


SHAWN


 


I haven’t seen Beyoncé since she bailed on me at the party two days ago, and this will be day three, unless she agrees to see me. I wanted to go over to her place first thing the next morning, but I didn’t wake up until a little after two. In the afternoon. By then, she was gone with Nicki and Angel to shop for Angel’s school play.


Then I wanted to see her yesterday, but she had to work, and she ended up pulling a double. I wanted to let myself into her house and just wait on her to get home, but a few people showed up—names are lost on me—and we ended up drinking late into the night, since I figured Beyoncé would be too tired to do anything other than sleep. I really regret that decision, based on the late-night drunk texts that passed between us. I don’t even remember the conversation, but I do know she’s probably pissed, since she’s not answering today.


 


ME: You still in a pissy mood, or can I come over and get some?


 


That was the message I sent her a little after midnight last night. I wish she hadn’t seen it or responded.


 


BEYONCÉ: I guess you’re drunk again. Say hi to Rihanna for me, and tell her not to fuck anyone on your bed when you get a new one. Please.


 


ME: Rihanna isn’t here. Just some other people. Come over and make it up to me for leaving like a punk the other night.


 


BEYONCÉ: Thanks, but no thanks. I’m good.


 


ME: I know you’re good. That’s why I want you over here.


 


BEYONCÉ: Glad you want me for sex. Good to know. Good night. I have work tomorrow.


 


ME: Really? That’s it? You’re blowing me off again?


 


BEYONCÉ: I have a job.


 


ME: Lose the job and come ride me.

ME: Seriously come over.


 


ME: Are you ignoring me?


 


ME: Fine. What the fuck ever. Bye.


 


And now I want to punch myself. Every time I read them back, they seem worse. I’ve sent several messages since I woke up over an hour ago and realized what I’d done.


 


ME: Sorry about last night. I’ll hide my phone from now on.


 


ME: Hey, what time you get off? I’ll pick you up and take you out to dinner or something.
ME: I realize I’m an asshole, but please text me back or call. I’m sorry.


 


Inwardly groaning, I toss my phone to the side. She hasn’t messaged back, and she hasn’t called. All the while, I’m stewing in my stupidity.


Funny how all I ever wanted was my freedom, yet now I’m begging a chick to tether me to her. It’s harder to sway her opinion about having fun with me, if she’s miserable, and then I go and drunk text her on top of that.


I’ve replayed the party events in my head a few times, and decided it wasn’t any one thing that set her off and made her ready to leave. Next time, I’ll just keep her with me all night, just like I should have done this time. My phone chimes, and I practically rip it up from the table to check it. Unfortunately, it’s just another ping from that motherfucking MILF dating site Beyoncé added me to. Damn her.


Getting up, I stuff my phone into my pocket and grab my keys.


It’s a short drive to Will’s garage, and I pull in, seeing it full to the brim with people waiting to have shit done. I forgot Jada recently started working for Will as his office manager, since his other one quit without notice and Jada couldn’t stand her boss at the museum anymore.


Jada waves when she sees me, but it’s more of a polite gesture, because she’s a whirlwind of motion as she deals with people who are coming in. Will is downstairs in the garage, and I see him through one of the viewing windows. Deciding he’s too busy to do anything else, I head out, waving at Jada, who doesn’t even notice me this time. Nas will have Nicki at home with him, because she’s started handling all his things like an assistant—one he never even knew he desperately needed.


Michael … Fuck, Michael  has a new baby, but I still drive over to his place.


When I get there, he opens the door for me, looking exhausted as he holds the tiny little baby girl in his arms, and walks with Trip attached to his leg like it’s his favorite seat in the house.


“Damn,” I drawl, looking him over. “Aren’t you the family man.”


He rolls his eyes and gestures me in, and I walk inside to see baby pins, baby toys, and baby clothes scattered everywhere between the little guy on his leg and the pink bundle in his arms.


“And a baby store exploded in here.”


He grunts something before shaking his head.


“It’s the dreaded adjustment period, and Fall doesn’t like to sleep,” he explains.


“And your wife?” I muse.


“Is taking her turn getting in a nap. I just woke up a few minutes ago and took over so she could get some sleep. We’re both running on empty right now. But Melanie and Ray are coming over tonight to help out.”


I just nod, surveying the home. Once upon a time, Michael  was cleaning up parties the way I am. Now he’s juggling two kids on a shift.


I feel sorry for him.


“What’s up? Did you need something?” he asks me.


I shake my head, deciding he has too much on his plate to go golfing or something.


“Nah. Just stopping in to check on things.”


Guilt hits me when he smiles like he appreciates that.


“Thanks, man,” he says, digging that guilt a little deeper into me. “It’s actually not so bad. I think Trip just spoiled us because he’d sleep for hours at a time without waking up. Fall, however, sleeps about thirty minutes at a time. They keep telling us she’ll get better and sleep longer though.”


Trip peers up at me with wide, curious eyes, and his hands tighten on his dad’s leg when his gaze meets mine. Smirking, I look over at Fall, who is sucking a pacifier like it’s the greatest invention ever.


“And she doesn’t like to be put down,” Michael  goes on, sighing with exasperation, but then a smile lights up his face when he looks down at her.


“Well, alright then. I’d offer to help you out, but…” I let the words trail off, and we both start laughing.


“Thanks. I get it. I’ve been you before.”


Shrugging, I clap him on the shoulder as we say goodbye, and I let myself out.


All of my friends have lives, and I’m still trying to catch up. I just wish Beyoncé was in the same place I am, because then I wouldn’t have to deal with her being pissed at me while I play catch up.