Love Delayed

by Love Belvin

  I dropped my fork onto my plate. “Zo…” I called apologetically.

  “I’m just kidding, you dork!” she giggled. “Calm down.”

  I didn’t know if she was kidding about kidding or serious about both. Zoey was fucking with my head. I didn’t exactly know how to proceed with her after last night. I felt sexual tension, something I knew nothing about. Sex was never a big fucking deal for me; when I wanted it, I got it. And don’t get me wrong, I wanted it, but, I didn’t fuck friends. Problem was, Zo wasn’t a typical friend. I didn’t know what the hell she was.

  When we were done, she took our plates to the sink to clean. I stood, resting my hip on the counter next to her, watching her like an idiot. I’ve fucked more women than I care to think of, but this young jawn had my fucking panties in a bunch.

  “So, what are we doing today?” she asked, still not looking at me.

  “I think we need to get some food in here. We can start with that,” I offered.

  She grabbed the towel to dry her hands. “Fine, let’s go while it’s early. I know how you are with crowds. Don’t want to get you mobbed,” she mumbled.

  “I can actually visit this local grocery store with little fanfare.”

  “Okay. I’ll go grab my things then.” Zoey turned to leave the kitchen.

  I grabbed her arm, yanked her little body into mine, took her by the face, and pushed my tongue in her mouth. It took her a while to kiss me back, but she did after some time. Her hands clutched my lower arms for balance. I didn’t stop until I felt she got the message.

  “I don’t want to beef with you, Niña,” I whispered to her as I held her head in my hands.

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “We’re not beefing, Stent. We’re fine.” And then she pulled away from me, leaving the kitchen.

  Twenty minutes later, we were at the grocery store, and rolling the cart down the aisle. Actually, I was pushing it and Zoey was rambling about ingredients needed for things she would cook while we were out there. When she asked about my diet restrictions, I told her I eat everything, but just nothing too heavy during the season; I was still on the clock, so to speak.

  “What does your chef usually cook for you?” she asked while we were in the produce area.

  “I dunno, shakes, vegetables, lean meats. Shit with lots of protein,” I answered while reading scores on my phone.

  “That doesn’t help,” I heard from just ahead of me. “But I think we have enough to survive these next two days.”

  I glanced up to find her staring at me, I guess for an answer.

  “Okay,” I answered like the dork she often accused me of being.

  “You can start off to the register. I just remembered Adobo seasoning. I don’t know if your chef has that at the house.” She started off in the opposite direction. Zoey called over her shoulder, “Don’t wait for me. I can pay for the seasoning!” She winked as she sashayed, I’m sure purposely, for humor.

  On the way back to the house, the snow started coming down. It brought out an animated Zoey. After putting away the groceries, we found our way to the formal living room, in front of the fireplace, roasting s’mores. It was something I’d never done, but had always seen on television. And my determined Zoey, had my ass holding marshmallows and Hershey’s chocolate bars in between two graham crackers, laughing my ass off.

  She sat with her legs crossed, this time in tights, a long t-shirt, and thick socks. Her eyes were big and smile was bright as she made jokes about the annual women’s retreat at her church and how Angela would put melted chocolate in the elderly women’s beds, making them think they shitted themselves in bed at some point in the night because they somehow never found the chocolate when going to bed. The stories didn’t stop and neither did the laughs. My cool Zoey was back.

  “So, tell me: What is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?” Zoey asked. “I think for me it was letting Kaleemah Brown cheat off my math test for the whole school year in high school. I never had the heart to tell her no. Angela scolded me for that all year until she convinced me to trick Kaleemah during our finals.”

  “What did you do?” I lifted a brow, genuinely interested.

  “So, I started writing down bogus answers and equations, giving Kaleemah the perfect view of my paper so she could copy it. Then when she was finished recording them, she handed in her paper. I stayed behind, waited until she left the room and told the teacher I needed a fresh exam paper because I’d confused all of my equations for different applications.” She shrugged. “He believed me, seeing I was an honor student. And of course, I turned in the correct answers.”

  “What happened to Kaleemah?” I asked as I bit into my third s’more.

  “It was the end of the school year. For all she knew, I flunked along with her. She didn’t fail that semester, but she did flunk out of the honors program because our finals counted for such a high percentage of our grade.”

  Zoey reached over and wiped my mouth. “You’re just s’mores’d out, Stent. Your turn. What was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Hmmmm…” I thought for a moment. “I’ve done lots of stupid shit in my day, kiddo. I think the stupidest was back during the summer when Alton and I got drafted.” I put my sandwich down on the plate and took a sip of the milk she insisted I drink with it. “We were at a country club in Mullica Hill doing off-season training—back then we trained in random places. One morning, Al and I woke up and made a pact that we were getting off the property to have some fun before we checked in for official training. I told him I was craving White Castle, and he said he’d never had it before. So, I made it my mission to take him to experience his first double with cheese. We bummed a ride up to Newark with a trainer who had a hoopty and we barely made it to the one on South Orange Ave. The trainer left for a car repair shop we passed on the way up, saying he’d be right back once he got his joint fixed.

  “Well, after we ordered our food, we walked a few blocks to a park that I knew we could chill at until our ride came back through. But when we got there, dudes from the Westside was there and knew who we were. They wanted a challenge. Now as employees of the NBA, we’re not allowed to play street ball, but two kids from Newark and Bridgeton would never be played like fucking suckas. So, we dropped our shit and balled the hell out. People always slept on Al because of his height, but was blown away by his speed and rebounds. We burned their asses on that court. It was so bad that dudes wanted to fight. Again, the two of us being from these cities, weren’t new to street fighting, so we were ‘bout it. That was until more of their Westside clique showed up flexing because they knew we’d just gotten signed.

  “I’ve never shied away from a fight. When you grow up in the hood, you know you gotta do what you gotta do, but when I thought of the bright future I’d just signed up for, it wasn’t that simple. Shit, there was no way I was going to punk out. Well, just as it was about to go down, the trainer pulled up, beeping the horn like a fucking maniac. It somehow got our attention and Al and I locked eyes, quickly agreeing to our next move. We hauled ass out of that little park so fast and barely made it into the car before it spun off. Dudes was chasing us for blocks. Throwing bottles, rocks, sticks…anything they could find, but we made it.”

  I turned to look at Zoey. She was totally engrossed in the story by the way her face appeared frozen. I’d hoped I didn’t scare her with a story that happened years ago.

  I chuckled then waved my hand in her face. “Earth to Zoey,” I teased.

  She blinked and finally said, “I guess poor Alton never got to taste those doubles with cheese. Such a sad story.”

  I fell back, laughing hard as hell, holding my stomach. There was never a dull moment with this girl. Leave it to her to make light of Al and me damn near losing our careers and lives over a stupid challenge.

  After she calmed from her laughing spell, she said, “Let’s play a game.” There again was that devilish twinkle in her eye.

  “Ah…shit,” I grunted. “What
type of game? You already have me here eating s’mores at the fireplace like a damn suburban camper.”

  She giggled, and then started cleaning our mess from the hearth. As she began stacking the crackers, chocolate and bag of marshmallows, she explained, “Okay, the game is called, “Play the Game You Want to Play”.”

  As childish as the name and request for this game was, this girl could get whatever the hell she wanted from me. I was intrigued.

  “What the fuck?” I barked as I followed her to the kitchen after grabbing what she couldn’t fit in her arms. “I’ve never heard of said game.”

  She waited until we arrived at the kitchen to start explaining. “It’s simple. You just tell me what fun thing…or play you want to engage in and we’ll do it. Then before we turn in for the night, I’ll pick the game I want us to play.”

  “I don’t know, Zo. This seems fishy.” I balled up my mouth.

  “It’s simple.” She pushed off as she moved to stand in front of me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Zoey loved to touch. “Name one thing you want to do together right now.” Her little head was at my chest with her chin in the air so she could see my face. I’d hope she didn’t feel my dick inflating.

  My eyes scanned out the window, straight ahead and saw the snow had come down pretty quickly since we’d returned from the grocery store. I wanted to ruffle her feathers, so to speak.

  “I want to go outside in the snow.” I squinted my eyes, seeing if she’d bail out of her own proposal.

  “Okay,” she perked up. “Meet you back down here in ten!” She smiled and damn near ran out of the kitchen.

  Less than twenty minutes later we were out in the back flinging snow at one another. Zoey jumped on my back, trying to get me to fall into the snow. She was very physical; always touching and trying to roughhouse with me. It was cute. Maybe because I knew she could never overpower me, even when I conceded and let her take me down. I found myself making animalistic noises to scare her as she ran for cover. We played out there for over an hour before calling it quits.

  Zoey showered, and while I went downstairs to run, she cooked dinner. After my time on the treadmill, I showered and slipped on fresh clothes. I went looking for Zoey and found her in the guest bedroom. She was lying on the bed, looking at her phone.

  “Hey, you bored yet?” I asked from the door.

  She glanced up at me, but didn’t have the smile or sneaky grin she usually wore.

  “I thought you got lost in this place,” she noted on a yawn as she stretched in the bed.

  “Funny,” I chuckled. “Is dinner ready? You ready to eat?”

  “No. I’m not all that hungry yet.” She sat up on the bed, then that smile slowly appeared. So damn pretty. “And we can’t eat yet. I haven’t gotten my turn at the game.”

  I had to take a second to think of what the hell she was talking about. Then it hit me; the damn game she proposed earlier. She must have been able to see me registering it from the look on my face because her cocky grin appeared.

  “Mmmmhmmm!” she confirmed smugly. “Don’t think I forgot.”

  Her expression was sly, but seeing that she hadn’t tried anything since last night, I couldn’t believe it was suggestive. All day, I’d been questioning my decision of turning her away. Suddenly, there was nothing I wanted more than to explore that delicious body of hers. Shit! I can’t think about that right now! I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with her, no matter how much it made me feel like a bitch.

  Zoey jumped off the bed and met me at the door. She nudged my arm with her fist. “My turn to play “Play the Game You Want to Play.” And my game is “Hide and Go Seek”!”

  Zoey’s eyes grew big as lemons, she was so fucking excited. I thought it was funny and busted out laughing.

  “Hey!” She punched me this time. “I don’t see what’s so funny!”

  ““Hide and Go Seek” in the house, Zo? What are we…three years old?”

  “Did I laugh when you wanted to go play in the snow?”

  Trying to slow my breath, I argued, “That was more like a physical activity.” She had to be kidding me.

  “Well, this one is more mental.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. She wasn’t kidding.

  “Okay,” I exhaled. “When do you wanna get started?”

  “Now!” she bounced on her toes in delight. “And to show forgiveness for your lack of appreciation of my game, I’ll let you go first. The only rules are you cannot leave the house and cannot hide behind locked doors. Deal?” She extended her little hand.

  I took it and gave her a firm shake. “Deal.”

  “Yippee!” she jumped up and down on her toes again. I couldn’t ignore her boobs bouncing in her thin t-shirt. “Now, you go and I’ll count to fifty.”

  She turned back into the room and started slowly counting. I stood there for a few seconds, watching her round booty jiggle, remembering why I decided to go along with this ridiculousness in the first place. By the time she got to twelve, I hauled ass out the door. I ran down the spiral staircase and hung a left. I couldn’t believe how giddy I felt about hiding at my age. But as my socks slid against the shiny marble floors, it took my interest to a next level. I glided towards my study, but quickly decided that was too easy a location. I needed to make her search more difficult to end this game prematurely. She’ll get so frustrated that she’ll forfeit her turn and call it quits.

  I opened the door to the basement level and ran past my gym, sauna, wine cellar, basketball court, and pool room. I didn’t stop until I got to the storage room where the boiler was. Then I went deep inside the room and hid underneath the small window. From there I had perfect lighting to view the door in case she was smart enough to find me all the way back here.

  My damn phone went off in my pocket. Quickly, I jumped to pull it out and switch off the ringer clip. It was a message from Alton.

  Coach wants us early Wed morning.

  I snorted. Don’t you think he told me dumb ass.

  O yeah. I guess so. LMAO. Im just bored as fiduk. What ass u into tonite?

  How ironic a question. You mean whose ass I want to be into, but can’t man the fuck up.

  Just chillin’ at the crib. I decided on.

  U down the road or up the block?

  Up the block. I replied.

  Shit! Why the fuck did I tell him that? Now, his ass will be over while Zo—

  “Here you are!” Zoey whispered hard, scaring the shit out of me.

  “Muthafuckin…!” I damn near jumped out of my fucking socks.

  Zoey held her stomach as she fell over laughing. I was mad as hell. Thanks to fucking Alton, I lost a game of “Hide and Go Seek”…in my house…to a damn girl! Zoey couldn’t stop laughing. She had tears falling from her eyes and could barely breathe. As fuming as I was, there was something about her laughter that nulled my irritation.

  “Stent!” I heard like a balloon popping. I found Zoey, whose breaths were now coming in longer draws, looking at me.

  “Huhn?” I asked.

  “Who was that?” she asked in a tone that told me she was repeating herself.

  “Oh! Ummm…Alton’s dumb ass!” I grabbed my phone from the floor where it had landed.

  “Well, give him my thanks for making this so easy. You didn’t even hear me open the d-door!” she choked on her laughter.

  Yeah, I damn sure will be telling his ass something. Even unknowingly, he put my ass out there.

  “Your turn!” she yelled while she headed to the door, still laughing. “You have to count to fifty!”

  I glanced down at my phone and found Al’s last message.

  Cool. Im cumin thru tomar

  Don’t even waste your fuckin time! He’d probably interfere in something else.

  Whada fuk crawled up yo ass?

  Before I could answer, my phone lit up with a call.

  “Yeah, Zeek,” I answered.

  “Stent! I’m glad I caught you,” my jeweler damn near shoute
d in my ear. “I wanted to know if you approved that design I sent over last week. I want to get started on it before the Valentine’s Day crowd, man.”

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself from being scared the shit out of. I headed towards the door believing it had been at least fifty seconds. As I searched each unlocked room of the basement I spoke about the details of a diamond chain I was having made. Thank god there were just a few unlocked rooms down there; I could have been searching for hours.

  I made my way to the main level, going room to room like a damn fourth grader. Midway through the house, I got discouraged, believing my conversation with Zeek was distracting my manhunt. He was asking me to recall details from his sketch.

  “Let me go grab that from my bedroom. I’m on my way there now,” I informed as I trekked the steps, two at a time.

  “Okay, Stent, man, but it’s on the edge of the cut that I altered. What you were asking for could compromise the security of the diamonds,” he replied, still trying to make his point.

  “All right, I see what you mean. I just need to see—”

  My words were clipped at the sight of Zoey’s naked body in front of my bed. Her face was blank. Her hands were clasped behind her…expressing restraint. Her toned right leg was crossed over her left. Her striking dark chocolate nipples were peaked. And there was something about the close cut bed of hair in her pelvis, neatly shaped that made my tongue curl my mouth.

  Initially, it felt like a set up. Well, I’d been in the game long enough to know it was a set up…but not like the fucking vultures that come with being in the league. This was my sweet Zoey. The Zoey that had no damn clue of my salary. The one who probably didn’t even know what position I played. Zoey didn’t know about my Pepsi contract, or the McDonald’s endorsement deal I’d just renewed, or about the sneaker line with Nike, or the Cobalt investment deal I’d just signed with Azmir Jacobs.

  This was a different type of plotting.

  But what the fuck?

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Zoey

  “Yo, Zeek, man, I’mma hit you back,” he spoke throatily into the phone before dropping it from his ear.