"Yasmine," Brice said. "It’s Brice."
"I know who you are," Yasmine said.
Brice hesitated to speak until the scratching noise stopped. "Your eggs sticking?" She couldn't cook eggs without leaving a thin layer of the egg in the pan.
"I need to talk to you," Brice said. He desired to tell how he loved her. Shawn and he could stay friends when Yasmine and he got back together. To keep her he would marry her.
"I don't have the time." Yasmine end went silent. She worked the restaurant in the day and gave private strip shows at night. She cooked her breakfast during late night hours.
"Make time for me." Brice waited tapping his hands against the nightstand. "I-."
"I'll pick you up," Yasmine said. "We can talk, riding into our jobs."
"Okay," Brice said, agreeing to a cussing match and make up sex. Guilt didn't come up in his mind. He promised to stop the sex with Yasmine after Shawn and her said I do.
Dressing in a silk shirt and suede pants, he sat in the straw chair close to his front door. No sign of Hefty wanting payback. Yasmine sped into the driveway with her GM Phoenix.
Brice jogged down the stairs. Yasmine with her tighten eyebrows exited the car. She stuffed her crimson colored cotton and nylon outfits back into her trunk. Pulling duct tape from the trunk, she tore pieces off with her teeth. She taped the trunk to hold it close.
"Do you need some help?" Brice asked.
Yasmine gave a no response by shaking her frizzy bangs. Brice stepped forward to her face.
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