End Zone Love (Connecticut Kings Book 4)

by Love Belvin

  “I don’t care about who people sleeping with. I’ve never been the type to trip over stuff like that.”

  “This is going to sound crazy,” Zoey warned. “But I thought Ezra was gay for a minute, years ago.”

  Stenton’s face balled into a crying expression and his head rolled on its neck before he hit her with another glower. Zoey shrugged.

  Trent chuckled. “I always thought E was weird, not having a lady, being so young and smart—social stuff. But gay? Like I said, I don’t trip on stuff like that.”

  “E is weird as fuck,” Stenton declared. “I peeped that the first time I met him. But gay? Nah. I could vouch for dude before Lex came along. Ain’t nothing queer about Ezra Carmichael’s dick.”

  “Stent!” Zoey cried.

  “What? You can say a R&B dude fine as hell, but I can’t say my pastor—my boy—is straight as fuck?”

  Zoey stood from his lap, shaking her head. “Okay. That’s enough talk of speculated sexuality. We just left an anointed service this morning with both those guys.”

  “My goddamn pastor ain’t never been gay, Zo,” Stenton wanted to make clear.

  “I never said he was. I was just talking about my private, late adolescent thoughts. Thoughts I’d arrived to after I came into my sexuality,” she sassed.

  Instantly, Stenton’s eyes softened and…darkened. I’d seen Zoey’s effect on Stenton. She had him wrapped around her finger. It was similar to how Pastor Carmichael softened Lex’s rough persona.

  “The car should be here soon. Anyone want a refresher?” She raised her flute. The guys declined and so did I. “Fine. Holy mother of Joseph, that crab mac-n-cheese was off the chain, Jade! I could have more right now,” she recoiled, embarrassed.

  “After you had dessert, babe?” Stenton teased.

  “I know,” she faux cried.

  I almost slipped in a crack about her possibly being pregnant again like Lex, but quickly thought against it. I wasn’t sure if Lex had told anyone else. Lex and Zoey weren’t close as I was to them individually.

  “That apple cobbler was outta this world though, Jade,” Stenton complimented with an emphasized nod.

  I felt a whack then grip on my hips. I was thrusted roughly onto Trent’s hard torso. My chin was clasped roughly in his other big hand. “You’re outta this world,” he growled then kissed me hard.

  My heart rumbled in my chest at his abruptness, rough handling, and dangerously heady scent. Trent was my weakness. Our relationship was soul-binding above all things, but we legitimized it with rabid intercourse. Gosh, we screwed like animals. It was our natural inclination.

  “I hope you didn’t plan on taking leftovers across the road…” Zoey snapped me out of my lustful haze with Trent.

  It was a good thing Zoey and Stenton were okay with our intimacy. They had their own displays, too, at times. I withdrew from his mouth and wiped my own.

  “Na-no.” I waved off the thought. “Girl, you know my hips can’t afford to drag leftovers home. “Trent doesn’t need it either. It’s yours.”

  “Good! I’ll get the fancy bowls back to you this week.” She smiled before disappearing into the hall.

  My phone went off. I pulled it from under Trent’s thigh. Ryshon’s number flashed on the screen. That instantly, my feelings of need turned into jittery anxiety.

  “Don’t do that, J,” Trent chided softly. “He’s calling for Ky.”

  I cringed as I shook my head. “Mind if I take this out there?”

  “Shoot,” he granted.

  I tapped to answer while in movement. “Hello.”

  “Whaddup.” I could hear clangor in the background. “Here’s the famous girl.”

  “Huhn?” I pushed the phone to my ear.

  “I heard about the article they did on you.”

  Revelation hit and I rolled my eyes, letting out a breath. “Oh. The one they did on Trent.”

  “You was in it, though.” I could hear the amusement beneath his words. “That’s deep. Dude still in it with you, I see.”

  Dude married me!

  Of course, I wouldn’t say that. No one knew. Not even the Rogers. Trent hadn’t been enjoying this big secret, but it didn’t bother me. I had his commitment, and he had my heart and soul. My fortune couldn’t be quantified.

  “It’s pretty late…” I tried getting to the point. It was close to ten at night.

  “Where’s Kyree? I ain’t heard from him today. I tried calling him.”

  My head swung up the elaborate staircase as I clutched the phone in my hand. “Upstairs, playing with his friend. I guess he left his iPod at home.”

  With his iPod, Kyree could have telephone and FaceTime communications with anyone with an Apple product. Apparently Ryshon had one because he’d been contacting him on his own.

  He scoffed. “I can’t speak to him now?”

  My face opened in realization. “Oh! Okay. Hang on. I’ll get him.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear and trekked it upstairs. Kyree was staying over because by the time we got back from Alton Alston’s birthday party, it would be too late to wake and get him in his own bed for school the next day. I was fortunate to have trusted friends across the road, who had a son close to Kyree’s age. We made arrangements like this all the time.

  I made it to the second floor and found my way to Jordan’s playroom where the boys were in their pajamas. The phone was down, so I didn’t hear if Ryshon had more to say. I had nothing more to say, still angry about his tone during our first telephone conversation since he’d been released.

  I knocked on the door of the massive room filled with bouncy trampolines, elaborate train sets, a life size rocking horse, a playhouse, big screen television, and other gadgets I couldn’t name.

  “KyKy, your dad wants you,” I tried calling over their voices.

  Kyree’s little head popped up from behind a stuffed gorilla. His sleepy eyes didn’t match the broad excitement of his smile as he raced toward me. He frowned when he recognized the phone I was handing him. Did he think his father was actually here?

  In Stenton Rogers’ mansion?

  “Hey, Dad!”

  “Whaddup, lil man.” Somehow the phone was on speaker.

  “I thought you was here, and mommy was calling me to see you.”

  “Nah. I ain’t at your crib, man.”

  “I’m not home. I’m across the street, at Jordan’s house.”

  I told you he left his iPod at home! I turned away.

  “Jordan?” Ryshon parroted. “It’s kinda late on a school night, man. Who Jordan?”

  “Jordan.” Ky’s hand swung into the playroom. “Jordan Rogers. You know his dad.”

  “Nah. I ‘on’t know her peoples.” Poor Ky didn’t catch the shade in that statement.

  “Yes. You do!” My son was determined to make the connection. I was ready for the conversation to end. “StentRo, the basketball player you like!”

  Ryshon was a sports head. When he’d call from prison, his conversations with Ky would often have sports references. He wanted our son to be an athlete, no matter the type. That’s why he was so insistent on me putting him in football.

  “StentRo? You at his house?” Ryshon sounded utterly stunned. He wasn’t the type to admit to that emotion, but I heard it and it made me even more anxious.

  Suddenly, I felt like an outsider among Trent’s friends, exploiting their privacy by having this conversation in their home. Kyree leaned against the wall casually as he spoke contently with his father. Jordan appeared near the door, playing with some wrestling figure.

  Outside of their son’s playroom no less.

  “Yeah. Mommy and Trent going to a birthday party—”

  “It’s my god-dad, Alton’s birthday party,” Jordan made clear.

  No…

  “Yeah!” Ky slapped his forehead, as though he should have remembered that detail. “It’s Alton Alston’s party, Daddy. They all going, so I’m hanging with Jordan tonight.”

  I
bit my lip and squeezed my eyes closed.

  The line went silent at that. Ryshon didn’t respond right away.

  “You there, Daddy?”

  “Yeah, I’m here, lil man. I just wanted to say it’s time for me to see you. Put ya moms on the phone so we can make it happen.”

  “All right,” he hummed with child-like indifference. “Night, Dad.”

  “Yeah,” was all Ryshon returned.

  Kyree handed me the phone and I took a deep breath.

  “Night, baby. We’ll be leaving soon. Ms. Eligia’ll be putting you two down for the night in a few minutes. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He gaited back into the room slowly.

  It was after both Kyree and Jordan’s bedtime. Having company over spared them an extra hour. Ky didn’t look like he was handling the privilege well. His bug was gone, so I couldn’t believe his sluggishness was related to that.

  I rolled my eyes, tapping to take the call off speaker while heading for the stairs. “Hello.”

  “Yeah. When you bringing him over?”

  “I can do it this week.”

  “When?” he spat back.

  “You tell me when you’re available,” I tried for polite.

  “You the busy one. You tell me. Oh, and I’m having a welcome home party. I want him here for that.”

  “Okay,” my voice was faux amenable. “I’ll take a look at my schedule and make it happen.”

  It was an honest statement. Trent was due back in Connecticut this week for his junior league football camp. I had a meeting with Elle over at Dynamic Branding, and amongst a dozen other things, I had to get April’s room together. Kyree had a show at school I had to help him prepare for. And there was a photo shoot for Trent happening soon, a date I couldn’t remember. He had a birthday coming in April, I’d been trying to plan with his team. Then I had to meet with planners for Trent’s new AIDS awareness charity, created in memory of Shank. He was raising money for education and awareness and having its first event in August. Life had been pretty busy for me.

  “Oh, word? Your schedule, huhn?” Ryshon questioned with suspicion lined in his tone. “You back on that white girl shit, I see.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “White girl.” I sighed once at the base of the steps. “I see.”

  “You see what? You frontin’? That nigga done moved you in, introduced you to his peoples, got you in a little article, and now you frontin’ like you too busy to bring my seed to see me. We doing it like that, Jade? You ‘on’t wanna do that.”

  My stomach flipped. I hated when he threatened me, even as mildly as this. It was how he’d controlled me for years. I always wanted to please and be accepted by him. Now, in retrospect, I could see Ryshon never loved me; he was taken by his ability to make me love him. He knew he was able to control me with mere words because I wanted that badly to be accepted by him.

  “I have to go,” I gritted.

  “I know. With the crew you wanna be down with. With the dude that’s gonna toss you as soon as he get tired of ya pussy.” Zoey breezed past me in the foyer, smiling politely as she headed for the living room. “Your story ain’t special, Jade. It’s gone end the same fuckin’ way they all do. You’s a groupie. A cute one with a fat ass and tits, but just a groupie. So, when he get tired of ya head game, the clothes, pocketbooks, and shoes gone stop. Then you gone be out on ya ass with my son. When that happens, I’m coming to scoop what’s mine and you can move on to ya next trick.”

  I swallowed back a cry. To keep them in, I looked up toward the high ceilings. The intricate crown moldings caught my attention. This place was regal, just like Trent’s across the road. Ryshon was right: I was out of my league with these people. They had earned their way here. Even Zoey had a thriving business, probably not needing Stenton’s money for a decent life. I was the only odd ball out here. Married to one of them or not, I was the only person not earning their way with work.

  “Go the fuck to hell with your fake know-it-all, wanna be a baller ass!” I grated with a hushed tone and wide nostrils then disconnected the call.

  I took a deep breath, trying to distract myself by looking at my blue suede shoes. They were a new pair of Aldo’s purchased for tonight. Aldo. It was between these and Jessica Simpson’s that were twelve dollars more. Those are the decisions I made at Trent’s side. I wasn’t showered with or expected extravagant designer gifts. Yes, my husband had just signed a six million dollar endorsement deal with Sony Electronics. Sure, he was up for a contract renewal with the Kings that was rumored to be valued upwards of tens of millions. Trent wasn’t a man of lavishness. And I didn’t need it. So Ryshon was completely wrong about my life.

  But damn… His words wounded me.

  The sound of Trent’s booming laughter caught my attention. Something in my chest opened and I could breathe better. I held on to the banister, resting my head lightly on the back of my hands, being sure not to disrupt my makeup. Just one minute—sixty seconds—to collect myself before resuming the realm I didn’t really fit into.

  “Woop!” Heat and a familiar weight on my back had me leaping in my heels.

  “What? You ain’t know I was coming for you?” Trent’s amused baritone rang out over me.

  Startled and out of breath, I clutched my exposed cleavage, feeling to be sure my midriff blouse still covered my breasts. He moved to stand in front of me, holding out my clutch and coat as he chuckled teasingly. At that mention, my wild breathing grew deeper, my spine straightened, and nipples stung. Instantly, at the sight of his smile, broad shoulders, and tantalizing scent, I was aroused. Trent’s smile faded, and in recognition of my mood swing, his eyes narrowed. I wanted him, something fierce. And judging by his expression and frozen movements, he knew it.

  Eligia appeared with a sleeping Amora Ardell, and Stenton and Zoey took turns kissing her goodnight. Stenton seemed spellbound-in-love with his little girl. Zoey watched with glittering eyes, I was sure, used to his heavy display of affection toward his first daughter. It was such a picturesque scene.

  “You are working those pumps, too, girlie!” Zoey complimented, snatching my attention from Trent’s big frame.

  She winked as Stenton helped her into an ankle-length shearling coat.

  My eyes fell to my Aldo’s, and out of nowhere, a giggle bubbled in my chest. That turned into a full-on gut splitting guffaw. I didn’t feel Trent put my coat on my shoulders until he was suddenly at the side of my face.

  “One minute, you throwing me I want the D eyes then you crackin’ up,” he spoke in my ear. “What’s up with that?”

  I tried slowing my laughter.

  “It’s that Patròn, TB,” Stenton offered as he pushed into his goose.

  “That Patròn gone get you put to sleep tonight,” Trent warned, and so badly I wished he could make good on that. Alton’s party be damned.

  I slid into my coat and watched Trent slip on his bubble vest. We called up final words of bedtime to Kyree and Jordan before leaving for the waiting limo. Walking down the front stone stairs of the Rogers’ home, Stenton bent to lift Zoey into the air and carry her to the car. She screeched and giggled contently the whole way while he growled things to her only she could hear. It was sweet. I knew the gesture: Trent was a playful lover, too.

  As we followed behind, I gazed at them and wished Trent’s and my love was as uncomplicated as theirs. I wished it wasn’t polluted with baby-fathers and drama like ours. I wished I’d met him sooner in life. I may not have been able to appreciate his heart as I did now, but mine would have been safe and nurtured. My blunders would have belonged only to the love of my life. Trent Bailey.

  “Philleeeeeeeee!” the deejay shouted into the microphone. “Stenton muthafuckin’ Rogers in the fucking building!” He muted the music enough to give room to the blasting praises of the two-level facility. “Let’s give it the fuck up for our own! He can’t retire from this Philly love!”

  Once again, the place went up with riotous cheers.

  �
��You good?” Trent asked with soft lips to my ear.

  I glanced up and saw his soft scowl. Trent didn’t like the club scene, I knew. But now, being at Alton’s birthday party at a lounge in South Philly, he was more concerned about my sudden mood change since speaking to Ryshon. I nodded and tried for a smile. It was his second time asking. It was enough that something kept him texting from his phone most of the ride down here. And I was sure the tight walk in here, surrounded by security and raging party-goers didn’t help. Zoey and Stenton didn’t walk in together. Their security, traveling with them when needed, purposely separated the pair. When Tyheem asked Trent if he minded following suit, Trent declined saying he ‘had’ me. So while we scurried in, following a brisk moving line of security providing a barricade, Trent walked on my heels.

  It was some journey with the party in full throttle. Women screamed at the top of their lungs, trying to grab the giant, who was practically carrying me in. Men attempted enthusiastic handshakes to no avail: Trent’s hands were occupied.

  Now, in V.I.P., I could breathe. And shake my ankles out.

  The record stopped again and scratched. “Ladies and gentlemen, I was just told Trent muthafukin’ Bailey is in the damn building!” The crowd went up and the record played again before being scratched. “That’s right! The Delaware Valley’s own! CMD royalty is gracing the people tonight!”

  A spray of applause rippled around the room.

  Trent was still at my face when I smiled, proud of his announced presence. That small act improved my mood just enough to attempt to quell his concern.

  I tapped his cheek, narrowing my eyes. “How about a drink?”

  I didn’t particularly want one, but figured he could use one to loosen up. Trent nodded and took off to a guy holding a tray flat underneath his arm while speaking to others in the sectioned off balcony. I glanced around and saw the area less concentrated than on the main dance floor. Some faces I recognized, others I didn’t. And the ones I did… Oh, my goodness! Celebrities. Big time.

  It was one thing to attend church with well-known people, but to be this close to them in a more relaxed setting…