by Love Belvin
He scratched his nose. “Yeah. You’re smart, know fashion, a beast who don’t mind staying on top of people.”
My eyes were on him, but face was straight ahead. “I’d be working with your peers…”
“Who?” He turned to face me.
“Stenton, Aaron Croix from the MLB, and Tori McNabb, the boxer.”
“Word? Jax got her?”
“Love is Action has her. They need their own identity. Anyway, I meet with her tomorrow, and I’m nervous.”
“Nervous? Why?”
“Because she’s like a tough girl fighter.”
“Ain’t that what you wanna be?” He sputtered a laugh.
I shoved him at the arm. “Don’t play, Trent!”
“I’m just messing with you, lil one.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Just don’t get on her bad side. I ain’t tryna do another bid for jackin’ up no broad for puttin’ her hands on my wife.”
“I have no reason to lose my temper with Tori McNabb! Plus, Zoey will be there. That was the deal we made for Ky tonight.”
“Zoey wanna meet Tori?”
“I guess so. I’m scheduled to meet her for her yoga class. I had to cancel my skating date with Zoey to do it.” I shrugged. “She wants to tag along. Even offered to bring Niña’s Sweet Cakes.”
Trent snickered. “Y’all going to work out with Tori McNabb. Wow.”
“I don’t know about working out. It’s yoga, but I could use it. This weight!” I groaned, cringing. Then I flipped onto my side to face him. “Hey! You know Zoey has gained forty-five pounds since getting pregnant with Jordan? Not Amora Ardell, but Jordan.”
Trent had no reaction.
“I think I heard StentRo snatched her up outta high school. Your point?”
“College. She went from a hundred and twenty pounds to one sixty-five in less than ten years. I’ve gained a huge portion of that in months.” Trent froze next to me.
My eyes squeezed closed.
Damn. I shouldn’t have shared that. He’s going to be turned off by my fat ass now…
“How much weight are we talking, J? You been skating with Zo for what…? Two months now?”
“What do you mean?” I cracked a lid.
“How much do you weigh?”
My back flew up from the mattress. “You don’t ask me questions like that, Trent!”
His face contorted. “What the hell did I say? You’re over here tripping about a few pounds that—honestly—I don’t see!” He lifted from the mattress and yanked his beard, frustrated.
Trent moved to sit on the edge of the bed, placing his elbows on his knees. His posture was a brooding one with his tatted back expanding and dropping as he breathed heavily.
I touched his shoulder. “Hey. Did I say something wrong?” I knew I’d been harping on this weight thing for a while, but this wasn’t like Trent. He’d always been patient and cautious with the topic. “I’m going to lose the weight. I swear.”
Trent issued a glare over his colored shoulder. “Now, you know I ain’t trippin’ over no weight, Jade. Gain a fuckin’ hundred pounds and we’ll lose them together, but I ain’t going nowhere and neither are you.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want you stressin’ over superficial shit, Jade. We married now. We’re past the surface shit. You’ve been acting real weird since Ryshon came home. I don’t want you stressed about what you can’t control. When you do, I feel it.”
“I haven’t thought about him once since I got here!” My tone was defensive. I recoiled on the bed, the sheet wrapped loosely around me, realizing what I’d just implied.
“I hope like hell you didn’t. You’re with me!”
I cringed. “That’s not what I meant!”
Trent buried his head in his palms and groaned. Then his head popped up as though he was shaking off a mood. He peered over his shoulder again.
“Let’s drop it. I don’t wanna be in that place. That’s not what I had in mind for you.” My brows met. “I actually wanted to take you out for dinner to a nice place up here then strip you naked in my bed.” Then my jaw dropped. But my nipples tingled. He cracked a grin beneath his beard. I could see it in his eyes. “I got you some things.”
I sucked in air. “Me? Like what?”
His neck jerked and face folded. “Like gifts.”
Was he offended?
Trent lifted from the bed once again. This time, he headed to the closet where he pulled out several shopping bags. Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Sephora, and Nike. He lay them on the bed. The Louis Vuitton bag was rather large, Gucci and Sephora were small, and Nike was modest and plastic.
Trent sat back down on the bed, closer to the headboard and waved his hand unceremoniously toward them.
“Open!” he urged.
“Oh!” My eyes burst wide. “Okay.” I went for the smallest bag.
After opening a small box, I found a gift card for Sephora valued at five hundred dollars. My heart pounded at the gold in my hands, though it didn’t seem real. I tried to play it cool and moved on to the next bag.
“I wish I’d known already about the Gucci plug. I coulda saved my dough,” he muttered behind me petulantly.
I peered over my shoulder at him. Trent was biting his nails with his eyes fixed to the mattress. Too anxious to address it, I went back to the gifts. Inside the Gucci bag was a long box. A beautiful polished sterling silver boule bracelet waited inside. My chest rose and lungs vacuumed in air. Next, I went to the plastic bag that held a pair of cute running shoes.
I peeked over my shoulder—more like scowled.
With his chin toward his lap, Trent was still able to see me. “You been crying about getting active.” He shrugged with his head. “Figured we could work out together before the season starts back up.”
My face and shoulders dropped defenselessly and my heart melted at his tough boy act I was able to see through.
The last bag contained a signature Louis Vuitton monogram canvas case with a handle and zipper stitched around three/fourths of it. After opening it, I saw it had two flat pockets in the interior, and a pen holder. It was a business piece. I turned back to Trent for help.
“It’s a iPad case.” This time he shrugged with his eyebrows. “You been picking up work in my career, staying on top of Ky, and with ya lil nail party business on the side. Plus,” he licked his lips and his eyes rolled to the corner of the room pensively. “Elle told me about hookin’ you up with something. She ain’t go into detail, but said it was something you’d be feeling.”
She told him?
My mind started to go. What was this? His mood swing. The gifts. This wasn’t the Trent I knew. It wasn’t us. Something was wrong. My eyes shot around the room as I desperately searched my head for logic.
“Is that what the candles are about?”
I noticed he had them lit when I came out of the shower, but was so consumed by the burning in my core, I never acknowledged them.
Trent shrugged, hardly about to speak. My shoulders collapsed and I let out a painful breath. I crawled over to him on my knees and lifted his chin through his wooly beard with my index finger. Trent’s troubled pupils met mine and I saw the doubt in them.
“You married me. There isn’t a nobler act as far as I’m concerned.”
A crease formed between his brows. “You’re used to that. You deserve it.”
My eyes ballooned at that revelation, but the emotion of anger receded. “I’m not used to love, commitment, and reciprocity from the heart.” I tossed my head back toward the foot of the bed. “Those things don’t matter if I don’t have what you’ve given me since my son and I moved into your place.” I paused, biting my lip as I considered my next words. “I can’t be around here, flaunting your wealth. It’s not what this is about.”
“I know you like nice things. Luxury things. I peeped your side of the closet. You got Louis…Gucci…even a Fendi bag. It’s who you are, Jade,” he growled, determined.
“Who I was!” I spoke an octave over him to quell his argument. I dropped my chin and narrowed my eyes for good measure. “Those things in the closet are older than Ky. It’s who I was. As your wife, I have a new identity. It’s one money can’t buy. Trent, I’m becoming whole. I may have been stressed lately about Ryshon and what him being around again means for my new family, but you best believe all of my hollow places are being filled in this wholesome space you’ve put me in by making me your wife.”
“Oh. So, now that you’re married you don’t like designer brands?” his tone was suspicious.
“Of course, I do.” I groaned, tossing my head back, trying to find the words. Then I decided to just come with the truth. “Trent, I can’t expect your luxury gifts!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s what they’re expecting. It’s what they believe of me. I’m no whore. I don’t need to be tricked off your wealth. I’m here to push you to greatness, at your side.”
“So, you wanna care about what they think now? Were they down there in Macen Beach when you pledged your love to me on cold sand in November? Are they in my kitchen every night when you cook my meals? By my side in church when I’m worshipping? With us at night when you’re rubbing my sore body, telling me I’m—not just the best quarterback—but a beautiful human being? They there when you’re ready to throw down the minute somebody comes at me wrong?”
I shuddered. “Thank god no paparazzi has caught any of those.”
“This ain’t a game, Jade,” he scolded my joke. “It’s what you need!”
“No.” I shook my head faintly, realizing how grave this topic was. For the both of us. “It’s not. It’s my life. I appreciate the gesture and will accept these gifts because it feels good to be thought of when I’m not around. But please don’t start down this road. I live in a ten thousand square foot home that’s paid for, and drive my son around in a ninety thousand dollar truck without a note. I can do without designer shoes, bags, and accessories.”
I snatched myself from the bed and trekked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
I don’t need shit but your big, immature, bearded, stubborn ass!
Not a single one…
As I scrolled down Jade’s IG page, I heard someone calling me from behind. Knowing they were approaching, I didn’t look up until the voice was closer and recognizable.
“Yo, man. What you into that got your ears plugged?”
I turned around to JJ and offered him some dap, ignoring his jab. He returned it. “What’s good, man. You done with Ramsey Bishop and his crew?”
“Just wrapped it up. They’re leaving now.”
Ramsey Bishop was one of two hosts of From the Sidelines, a popular sports show on WAWG, also known as We All We Got, network. The producers asked to come and do a special feature on the youth football camp. I didn’t care for the PR, but Elle and Larry Tinsel thought it would be good for sponsorship. People would see the special and want to contribute, especially corporate sharks, which is what they were hoping for. There were just two things I wanted: for this camp to last and grow, and for Ramsey’s partner, Wil, not to be the one covering the story today. So far, I had the host of my preference. I was good on it all.
“Thanks for coming through on this, duke,” I offered as our arms met. I was sure to take it easy, although it wasn’t his injured side. “I know therapy been kicking your back in.”
“Yeah, buddy,” he exhaled, scratching his brow. “But I’mma be ready for July.”
“Oh, we know this, man! Ain’t no doubt.” I chuckled, sliding my phone into the pocket of my sweats. “I could tell you wanted to demo out on the green.”
I’d had lead NFL players from all positions and different teams come up to volunteer their time and offer the kids instruction and words of encouragement. Elle was even able to get pop star, Pixie, to fly out and do a short concert for them last night of no charge to me. We even had the Kings’ very own chef, Naima, creating healthy meals that could be done at home. They were given the VIP treatment and deserved it.
Thanks to Elle and Cole, we had a small team of people, who had been screening the state for high risk kids with a passion for football. Some were recommended by school coaches and some by guidance counselors. Currently, that team was screening in Jersey for my next camp there in April. These kids were privileged to get first hand instruction from seasoned NFL players. I was honored to have their attention and enthusiasm.
Jordan snickered. “Yeah, I did. But I would’ve gotten my ass chewed out the minute I fell into a two-point stance. It was a struggle not to, man. That one kid acted like he couldn’t follow seventy percent of his weight on the front foot and thirty on his back.”
I nodded. “But you got him straight. That’s why I wanna do this. These kids, back in their communities, are coached by inexperienced block-huggers that’s trying their best to keep them busy, but don’t have field know-how. Them coming this week gives these kids a taste of principles and engagements on the green. ‘Preciate you for helping to make this happen.”
“You already know, man. This was lit, actually.” He nodded with raised eyebrows. “You hitting up little Altyna’s birthday party this weekend?” JJ grinned, keeping his eyes out on the field.
Altyna was one of Alton and Tynisha’s daughters. They were giving her a big to do birthday bash in a rented mansion in Franklin Lakes. They kicked out mad dough and had their reality show cameras shoot it for ratings. Alton told me a while back that the network didn’t pick up the tab for these parties. It was on him and Tynisha. One year, they had horses and carriages and served champagne with shrimp and grits. It was always more for adults than kids, if you asked me. But it was something they did every year for all their girls. I couldn’t imagine the stress of trying to always top the one before it.
I sighed, running my fingers through my beard. “Nah. Ain’t happening.”
JJ busted out laughing. “Jade gone hem dude up!”
“Not just that. Alton’s gonna have me slap the dog shit outta him,” I shared with more anger than I intended to, breaking one of my key biblical principles: “be angry and sin not.”
“What the hell that nigga do now?” Jordan wore a curious smile. I understood it was because we all knew Alton stayed in shit.
“The dumb fuck gone give my new number to Brielle.”
After Jade found out about my old fling with Brielle, I changed my number to kill all contact between us. It was nothing to try and ease her fears of me possibly harboring feelings for Brielle. So, I volunteered changing my number.
The amused smile disappeared and dimples filled. “Get the fuck outta here…” JJ whispered, shocked.
Yeah…
Even he knew how much of a violation that was!
“He know…?” Jordan’s brows and forehead communicated the rest.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “He don’t know we’re married, but that ain’t the point. It wouldn’t matter anyway! Dude ain’t got no concept of monogamy!”
JJ’s brows flew in the air and he blew out a breath.
“Don’t get me wrong: before Jade, I had no respect for the game myself. But this is different. He know she lives with me! When has anyone lived with me, JJ?” I swung my arms in the air, posing the question, then quickly looked around to make sure no one caught my angry slip.
He took another deep breath, switching positions, and scratched his injured shoulder with just one finger. I knew he wished he could do more.
“Straight violation,” he muttered. My eyes went into the open air over the field as I shook my head again. “Don’t sweat that shit. You and Jade winning. That’s all that matters.”
Winning? When she ain’t post a single pic of my face on her IG? But she damn sure got shots of her, Zoey, and Toni McNabb at Toni’s crib today…
“Oh, shit!” Jordan breathed out, eyes rolled dramatically. “I know that look, yo. Don’t fuck this up, TB!” he warned.
“I ain’t! It’s jus
t…chicks can be so damn complicated and so goddamn unnecessarily. I can give this girl the world and she feels it’s nothing because she only wants me.” I was still confused about her spazzing out last night over the gifts. She came out of the bathroom showered, and snuggled in the bed with me before falling asleep. Then I woke up with her mouth on my dick and her saying her period had come on overnight and she wanted to take care of me before she left. When she hit the road this morning, she took all the gifts, but never mentioned another word about them. I knew Jade liked them, but was convinced she didn’t want them. “What part of the game is that, dawg?”
Jordan waved his healthy arm in the air. “I on’t even know what you’re talking about right now, and if I know you, it’s because you don’t want me to. But I do know ya ass well enough to know you like to live in your own head a lot. And I ain’t never been a wife—” I laughed to keep myself from knocking him the hell out. “—but I’ve been your ace for enough years to know you got shit with you, too. You can be stubborn as hell. Ease up on the girl, TB. One day at a time. Right?”
I didn’t want him to see it, but my jaw dropped. Talking about relationships was a new thing for Jordan and me. We’d kicked it a lot over the years, and about heavy topics, but issues with women wasn’t one; at least nothing about real connections with them. For him to come at me like this was an eye-opener. Jordan was the only real one I trusted over the years as far as friends went. My pastor, Ezra, had been a mentor and sometimes therapist. Even Stenton was my boy, but he had his career in Philly and we didn’t see each other as much as we do now that he’s retired and living in his crib across the road full time.
Jordan had been with me through triumphs and depression bouts—even when he didn’t know exactly what it was. Dude would give me my space and dare someone else to violate it. He was a real one. So for him to take this tone was a big deal. I didn’t exactly get what he meant, but wouldn’t fight him on it either.
My eyes circled around the field. It was practically empty. The kids were having lunch in the front office cafeteria.
“You really taking it easy or you faking compliance?” I teased.
