Left on the Floor

~Chapter Eight~

I woke up Saturday morning with a bunch of hair in my face. I hadn't even noticed that we fell asleep. I sat up to try and get myself together.

"Did you have fun last night?" she asked.

"Of course baby." I stood up to throw on some shorts and some socks.

"How about another round?"

"Nah, thanks for the offer Diamond but I don't do morning rounds." I laughed.

"I understand but you know my number if you're ever interested again." she was finished getting dressed and was heading out the door.

I grabbed my phone and checked to see any messages. After scrolling past the Twitter mentions, retweets, and the likes from my pictures, saw I had a text from Cheyenne:

Sorry to bother you but I need a ride home after practice. My dad has some stupid ass meeting, my mom won't answer her phone, Corey is probably laying with some girl and still hasn't called me back. And Kareena is probably up under Sammy somewhere. Lol.

I noticed the time she sent it and it wasn't that long ago. I was downstairs making a sandwich while I texted her back:

Good to know I'm your last resort lol. What time do I have to come get you?

A few minutes went by before she texted me back:

1:00, I'm on the top floor.

It was only 12 so to kill time, I went running. I got back in the house at 12:30 and used though 30 minutes to take a shower and get ready. I grabbed two Gatorades from my fridge and headed out the door. When I pulled up to the building, I went up to the top floor and heard 2 On by Tinashe playing from a room. I looked through the window and saw Cheyenne dancing and breaking a sweat. I didn't wanna disturb her so I quietly opened the door and watched her in her element. After the song was over, I unconsciously clapped my hands making her jump.

"Oh my God! Trey, you scared me! How long have you been standing there." she asked while grabbing a towel.

"Long enough to know you're a good dancer."

"Just good?" she laughed.

"Well you're pretty great, but that's not my type of dancing."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're type of dancing includes a girl grinding her ass on you until you're hard." she laughed.

"Although, I don't mind that type of dancing, I'm more of a lap dance kinda nigga." I said laughing.

"Shut up Trélin!" she laughed.

"I'm serious, you should give me one right now since we're talking about it." I said giving her a wink.

"No, I'm not giving you a lap dance. That's a dead mission."

"What are you scared?" I laughed.

"No, I'm not scared of you. I'm not giving you a lap dance because I don't pass lap dances out to my friends." she grabbed her bag off the floor and headed toward the door.

"Wait, wait, wait, I'll make a deal with you." I said.

"You're always tryna make a deal with me! You just can't take no for an answer."

"That's because no one tells me no except you." I winked. "But anyway, if we win the game against Crainridge next week, you owe me a lap dance."

"Trélin no, no deal." she laughed.

"Come on, there's no harm in a lap dance. Just think of it as opening doors to a new type of dance. It'll make you more versatile."

She stood at the door and had her arms folded. After a few minutes she finally agreed.