by Vera Roberts
“You introduced yourself to Jalen as my boyfriend and you made damn sure he understood it. You introduced yourself as my boyfriend to Andrea, and you especially made sure she understood it. Now you’re telling me you’re introducing me as your date because it’s the proper thing to do?” My eyes burn with anger as a couple of tears fall down my cheeks. “Gee, why did you act one way around certain people but in another way, you want to be prim and proper?”
“Keisha, don’t do this, please.” His voice is low and is slightly begging. “I promise I wasn’t disrespecting you nor was I implying anything else.” He thumbs away my tears. I’m so pissed at him, but my body betrays me. I immediately become more attune to what is going on between us and what’s the real issue here. “Every time I came here, I always had a date with me. It was never a girlfriend and I think I was just so used to saying date, I just went with it.” He moves closer and kisses my forehead. “I will never disrespect you no matter who our audience is and where we are.”
“Okay,” I sniffle. I see my Uber has pulled up. “My ride is here. I need to go.”
“Keisha.” Savior’s grip tightens on my elbow. “I need you. If you leave, I’ll leave, too. I brought you here and I’ll leave with you.”
“You’re here with your family.” I charge back. “You need to be with them.”
Savior briefly looked up at the starry sky. “I’m not going back inside unless you’re coming with me.” His gaze met mine again. “And that’s final. You’re not leaving here thinking I’m a jerk.”
My jaw tightens with anger. “So, you rather have me stay here and think you’re a jerk?”
“I deserve that.” Savior wasn’t deterred and I don’t know if I want to fuck him or fight him. He holds out a hand. “I’ll do anything for you, gorgeous. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
I stare down at Savior’s hand before I meet his gaze again. “We’ll see.” I take his hand. “We’ll see.”
~~~~~
The dinner was uneventful. I made conversation with Soul about his shoe line and we talked about our favorite colorways. Savior and Ocean spoke about football and who they’d hoped to win on Sunday. The other ladies, aside from Starr, just stayed cute and mute. It was clear they were there to look good and not participate.
Soul and Ocean are in competition on who is the most woke brother and it’s endearing. They actually give back to the community instead of posturing with a bunch of black kids and how it goes viral on social media. I found out Ocean is part of a community organization that tries to curb gang violence while Soul constantly employs black models for his fashion line.
It makes me wonder…if the men are so woke and involved, why is Thomas so against them having black girlfriends?
I excuse myself to go to the restroom to freshen up. When I exited my stall, I found Bailey fixing her hair in the mirror. She retouched her lipstick and gave her lips a small smack. She is truly a beautiful woman and I’m surprised she’s only here as a date, not as someone’s partner. She certainly fits the bill.
“Are you having fun?” I break the ice as I wash my hands.
Bailey stares at me through the mirror as if I suddenly grew a third head. “Fun?” The accent, which I knew was fake, is gone. Her voice is plain and unassuming.
I briefly question if I used the wrong word. “Are you having a good time tonight?” I rephrase.
Bailey puts her lipstick in the clutch. She turns towards me and I feel her sizing me up. “How do you know the Ellisons?”
“I don’t.” I dry my hands and place a tip in the attendant’s plate.
“You came here with Savior,” her voice is accusatory.
“I did.” I’m not sure where her questioning is going. What I do know is about I snatch that dusty-ass wig off her alabaster ass if she don’t quit.
Bailey puts a bigger tip into the attendant’s plate. Clearly, it’s a competition I didn’t realize I was a part of. She fixes her obvious wig one more time and turns to me. “Are you and Savior dating?”
I carefully choose the words next. “Savior and I are very close.”
“Ocean introduced you as Savior’s girlfriend,” Bailey continues, “unless he was wrong with that assumption?”
How did a question asking her if she had fun become an interrogation? This night is becoming increasingly worse by the hour. I’m about to drag the soul out of her anorexic body. “You’re biracial, but you look light enough where no one will mistake you for being half-black unless you tell them. So, since you like to pass as white, I’ll treat you as such.” I clear my throat. “It must be tiring to be white. You spend every day hating, thinking of ways to hate, being mediocre, aging like an avocado, while pretending to live a great life and not care. You’re the first to turn Black Girls Rock to All Girls Rock. I bet you made racist jokes so your white sorority sisters didn’t have to. You were probably taught all of your life that if you acted in a certain way, you’ll get the man you wanted, even if you have to deny who you really are.
“So, when you see someone who has no care in the world, you get angry because your insecurities come out. You can’t understand how my baldheaded and thick ass came with the grand prize of them all and you’re curious about it. Not curious as in you’re genuinely happy but curious as in, you want to see what I did so you can swoop right in and get him.
“To answer your question if I’m dating Savior, here’s an unforgettable answer for you,” I walk up to Bailey and smile. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”
Bailey’s mouth curves into a frown and her eyes are hot with fire. She knows if she says or does anything, not only will she be kicked out of the gala but also out of the expensive ho job she calls escorting. “Thank you.” She then leaves the bathroom.
I stare at the door and wonder what the hell that was about but I shrug it off. I touch up my lipstick and make my way out of the bathroom. As I approach the ballroom again, I see Bailey and the hashtag twins talking amongst themselves.
Now it all makes sense. The women are from the same escort agency and they’re all working together to get in with the family. It explains Soul’s attitude from earlier and how he doesn’t take women seriously unless he’s doing business with them.
Why did I think I was so naïve?
I walk back to the table and sit down, feeling dejected. I can’t believe I was even a little excited about this gala until realizing how competitive and fake other women are. Even the sista who had a little bit of melanin within her thought I was her competition. So much for POC solidarity, huh?
I thought getting out of the ‘hood meant I would be around better quality people but I honestly think the people I’m around now are worst. If someone is fake in Inglewood, they get dealt with pretty quickly on the streets. If someone is fake here, it’s too obvious they want something from you.
I don’t know why I even entertained the idea I wanted something better. Maybe Andrea is right; I am a hood bitch, I was born a hood bitch, and I’ll always be a hood bitch. Maybe Jalen was right, Savior is only with me to get his rocks off until he rides into the sunset with Becky.
I’m just here to keep his dick wet until he proves otherwise.
“You don’t seem impressed to be here.”
I turn to Savior and gasp at his face. Savior Thomas Ellison is just a breathtakingly beautiful man with the deepest brown eyes I’d ever seen. His voice was calm and impassive, but that sultry look returned to his eyes.
My heart is delighted to see him, and my body is so attuned to his. He’s like a drug I refuse to go to rehab for and that’s so incredibly bad. He’s my heroin, my cocaine, my mushrooms, and I want more.
My brain, however, realizes how bad Savior is for me and wants me to quit cold turkey. It already seems like a dangerous love affair with no good ending in sight. Still, as angry I am with him, I just can’t quit him quite yet.
“It’s been an interesting night to say the least.” I don’t even bother to hide my scowl.
; Savior leans closer to me and I get another inhale of his delicious cologne. My heart was pounding out of my chest and my mouth felt cottony. He buries his nose into my neck and softly kisses it, causing a hum of pleasure underneath my skin. “How can I make this better?”
The warmth of Savior’s touch instantly made this night better. He was on his p’s and q’s for most of the night and barely held my hand. Now he’s kissing my neck – touching one of my spots – in public. If that’s not him claiming me, I don’t know what is.
“Gorgeous,” his lips curve against my earlobe, “I asked you a question. How can I make this better?”
Oh, I know a few ways he could make it better but I don’t believe I can say any of what I’m thinking. “I don’t know.” I breathe.
Savior suddenly pulls away and my body mourns the loss. He stands up and motions me to stand with him. He holds the small of my back as he leads me to the dance floor. A few heads begin to turn and I already feel the weight of the room upon my shoulders. This will not end well.
“This music is so unbelievably wack,” Savior motions over to the DJ, who quickly puts on another record.
I was expecting another WASPy tune like Coldplay, HAIM, or even Lana Del Rey. She’s safe enough, right? The music here has been a snooze fest but it’s supposed to be. Rich, white people and their fat pockets are paying to come here to listen to Cardi B.
I hear that familiar whispery voice of Total. Savior actually requested…LL Cool J?
“Loungin’” fills up the ballroom and I’m stuck on the dance floor with Savior. Considering the guest list, it’s not an appropriate venue to start twerking and freak dancing. Not sure what the protocol is here.
Did he just set me up?
“Follow my lead,” he whispers and he holds the small of my back. We walk along the rhythm of the song and I feel every set of eyes on us. Ooh, these white people ain’t gon’ like this…
Savior surprises me by doing ballroom dancing-like moves against a hip-hop beat. As the thumping bass line plays overhead, Savior twirls and spins me in perfect rhythm of the song. His hands roam all over my body, yet he was never disrespectful. We dance alongside each other, against each other, and it’s never obscene.
It’s poetry.
Savior smiles at me and it’s so genuine, so real. For a short moment, he forgets where he is and he’s happy. His brown eyes are focused on mine, our bodies are aligned together, and it feels so beautiful.
I’m blessed my dance background came in handy and I was able to keep up with Savior. As I slightly grind and shake my hips, he holds onto them and approvingly smiles, as if he was encouraging me to let loose.
His body is filled with passion and his eyes are smiling along with his mouth. It felt like we’d always danced like this, so intimate yet so polite. It was never disrespectful and he never put his hands anywhere they shouldn’t have been.
I’m so caught up in the moment, I don’t notice the dance floor become crowded. The blue hair crowd is on here, grooving with their husbands and significant others, trying to imitate the same moves Savior just did to me.
He pulls me close to him and caresses my face, mouthing the lyrics, ‘Who do you love? Are you for sure?’
My heart stuttered and my breath was caught in my throat. At that moment, it was only the two of us in the universe. There was no me, no him; it was just us. Savior looked so beautiful, so raw and real, and I wondered if this is how everything would be between us.
I know he’s just lip-synching but the moment is so surreal and I wonder if there’s meaning behind those words. I still don’t know if Savior is being real or if he’s trying to placate me from the earlier disaster.
Savior’s eyes flicker with delight and mischief. Just when I’m about to question him, he suddenly dips me in the middle of the dance floor. His lips claim mine and the kiss steals my soul. His muscular arms hold me so I don’t fall yet I never felt I was in danger. For the first time tonight, I felt protected. I felt needed.
I felt loved.
Savior lifts me back up and caresses my face. His eyes are heated and I feel the energy shift between us again. “Who do you love?”
There’s not doubt in my voice when I answer him. “You, Savior. I love you.”
Twenty
It’s an unusually happy day in Inglewood. That only means there will be drama later tonight.
As I work on a paper on my new MacBook, I occasionally look outside my window. The L.A. sky is nice and bright. It may be winter in many other parts of the country, but in L.A., it already feels like spring.
Hip-hop music blasts with each passing car. The ice cream truck makes its way around the neighborhood and a small group of children chase after it. Neighbors talk to each other via yelling. There’s no anger, but all love.
The last month has been such a whirlwind. Savior and I spent Christmas and New Year’s together. A few days after the New Year, Savior went on vacation with his father and brothers. I wish I was able to go but I knew it was a family tradition and no girls allowed. It wasn’t too bad. Every night, Savior and I made it a point to have FaceTime sex.
I’ve had phone sex before but it was nothing to write home about. It was during high school and there was nothing sexy or romantic about it. I can definitely say with all confidence I was drier than the Arizona desert.
But FaceTime sex with Savior is a completely different experience. He wanted to see everything as it happened from the time I tweaked my nipples to when I inserted a finger inside of me. He talked dirty, becoming more explicit with each stroke and making me climax in record speed.
“You look so damn beautiful when you come,” he licked his lips as he stroked his cock. “So damn beautiful.”
Savior’s eyes were heated and his lips were flushed. I licked my lips with hot anticipation as I watched Savior stroke his cock faster and faster. The explosion of come that spurted out of him as his eyes rolled back was so hot, I was ready to go again even though I’d just climaxed.
That’s when I knew I was dealing with a different beast. Savior was like no other.
It’d been almost two weeks since I’d seen Savior in person. He’s scheduled to come back tonight and I hope he’s ready for everything I’m going to throw at him because I’m horny AF.
It’s more than just not physically seeing him. There’s an emptiness in my bed at night that was never there prior to Savior. I miss the smell of his hair, the feel of his body, and the strength of him.
It was supposed to be a fling, an arrangement, a one-time last hurrah before I went off to college or somewhere far from L.A. Now all I wanted was to spend as much time with Savior as I could.
It wasn’t that I was losing myself within him or our relationship. I respected his space and he respected mine. If I couldn’t see him, I silently pouted but it was never an issue. Normally, my vibrator took care of my needs but I found myself waiting for Savior. I wanted him to take the edge off as he broke me off.
I take a break and stretch before I make my way outside. Sitting on the porch with a bottle of lemonade, I watch life unfold and think about everything. I have the love of my life, I’m about to graduate from community college in a few months, and hopefully, I’ll be accepted at USC.
The goal was to get the hell out of L.A. and as far away from it as possible. I even started researching HBCUs and applying to them. The thought of being in a different state and time zone away from Savior was too much for me to bear.
I love that man. I’m in love with him.
“Hi Keisha!” Three-year-old Cedric waves to me. He has his hair in cornrows and is wearing the brightest Paw Patrol sneakers. He’s also a sneakerhead just like me. He has a pretty impressive collection of Spiderman, Lightning McQueen, and Thomas the Train shoes.
“Hey Lil’ Cedric,” I wave towards him. I look up and see his father, Big Cedric aka Big C. Big C is a regular in the neighborhood, owning his BBQ restaurant just a few blocks down. He was the one that came up with Gumbolaya and
subsequently, increased my waistline.
While his son is in his Paw Patrol finest, Big C is dressed out of the Nike store. His shirt, his fitted, his warm-up suit has that familiar swoosh. He looks good but I’m more interested in his colorways. “Whatchu wearing, Big C?”
“Girl, let me tell you about these Air Force Ones Foamposites.” Big C walks into my yard with Lil’ Cedric in tow. Big C sticks his foot out and my eyes widen at how slick and shiny the black leather is. “Whatchu think about that?”
They look hella good. The other thing that makes my mouth water other than Savior and food is a sweet grail sneaker. Some girls collect Barbies and do fun arts and crafts; I’m a diehard sneakerhead. “So sweet,” I shake my head, “jealous.”
“You should be,” Big C laughs. “How’s your dad and Ashley?”
“They’re good. They’re back together and they’re both talking marriage now.” I’m really happy for my daddy. Ashley is the perfect fit for him and they seem complete.
“And your moms?” Big C asks and I shake my head. “I should say congratulations if the rumor is true.”
Word is Andrea is pregnant with King J’s baby. That would make her his fourth baby mama and the baby will join the other five siblings. Another black child born to dysfunctional-ass parents. I feel sorry for the fetus already. “That mess is all them, not me.”
“Hopefully this’ll make your mother calm down and act maternal.” Big C is always so positive, despite the negative. He’s a true inspiration. He briefly looks around and leans in. “Let me holler at you for a minute, baby girl.”
“Oh?” I put down my lemonade. “What’s up?”
“You still messing with Jalen?” He asks and I shake my head. “Good, good. Word on the street is he has some heat on him. His mouth was quicker than it should’ve been and he’s pissed off some people he shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t even want to know.” Jalen always had a temper that sometimes got the best of him. If he followed my daddy’s lead, he wouldn’t have dealt with any of this. Now he’s hiding from people with bigger guns and more heat than him.
