Our Muted Recklessness (Muted Hopelessness Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  “Then put it in the pot, my nigga!” one yelled, dropping a twenty-dollar bill to the ground.

  “Bet, bitch!” June threw cash on top of the pile. “

  “Y’all keep it down!” Ashton warned the rowdy group. “Mom says the guy in the apartment on the other side of this wall is out of town, but not the whole damn floor. And you know these sadity people love calling the law.”

  “A’ight, a’ight!” the skinny, dark-skinned cousin with the face tattoo promised.

  I watched them play for an hour, laughing when each one got mad—because they all did, and took turns doing it. At some point, while trying to follow an argument about crowding the dice, a woman ran down the stairs.

  “They ready, y’all!”

  All the guys glanced up. “Shit!” one swore.

  “Fuck!” another cried.

  “Alright, auntie.” Ashton turned back to the pot. “My last one.” He bragged to the circle. “I need good luck.” His head swung over to me. “Tori, come kiss the dice for me.”

  The guys made crazy noises; some laughed, and one even catcalled. I jumped to my feet and air-kissed his fist, finding it hilarious. Ashton rolled and collectively, they all bent over to see the results. A boom of bawls rang out in the small stairwell. The only person smiling was Ashton.

  “Yeah, booooy!” Ashton boasted. “Pay me, bitches.” The huffing and groaning from grown men was unbelievable. He turned to hand me a pile of wrinkled cash and winked in a way that made my belly flip. “Here you go, young lady.” With a shaky hand, I received the money, confused.

  “Man, I’m taking the damn elevator,” June grumbled, opening the door to the hallway.

  Three of the others followed him while one stayed behind.

  “Ready to get some cardio in, McNabb?” Ashton challenged me to walk. “We gotta make it quick.”

  I jumped to my feet, showing him I was ready. The two of us took off, up the steps. Ashton beat me because I had no idea which floor his place was on. His poor cousin got left in our smoke. He didn’t come heaving out of the exit until we’d made it to the apartment door. Ashton and I cracked up at that while slipping inside the apartment.

  “Go ahead in there with them,” Ashton whispered to me with a firm hand on my lower back. “I have to grab something from my room.”

  Without a word, I followed the crowd into the dining room. His mother, Wanda, was sitting at the table when June’s girlfriend, Nisha, carried out a tall fancy cake lit with candles. When someone began clapping, I realized a celebration was taking place.

  The pregnant woman I saw when we arrived earlier began singing. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you…” Right away, the whole room joined in. A huge smile opened on Wanda’s face and she clasped her hands together, tucking them beneath her chin. This was awkward.

  Do I sing along to a woman I’m quite sure doesn’t like me?

  Should I continue to keep quiet and look rude or worse: retarded?

  When I felt heat then hard flesh against my back, singing louder than anyone in the room, the decision had been made. Ashton’s cologne always did strange shit to me. So, I sang along—more like mouthed the words. Everyone cheered and clapped, then encouraged Wanda to blow the candles out.

  “Make a wish!” June barked.

  Slowly, Wanda’s eyes lifted and glided around the room like a laser beam and landed on me, weighting me in place as my heart fell out my ass. “My son makes my wish come true every day.”

  “Awwwwwwww!” a few sighed.

  “That’s what’s up,” Ashton whispered behind me.

  I tried breathing again, watching Nisha pull the cake back to cut it.

  “Here, Auntie Wanda,” the guy with the tattooed face handed her a card. “Happy birthday, baby.”

  “Thanks, Leon, hunny.” Wanda beamed.

  And that began the showering of birthday gifts. She had so many: gift cards, cash, a scarf, gloves, baking set, bracelet, and other things. This was definitely awkward. I had no gift, she didn’t like me, and I wasn’t Aivery. And not just that I wasn’t, plainly put: I was not her son’s girlfriend—the son who had a real girlfriend, who wasn’t me.

  I was pulled out of my head when Nisha announced, “Alright, y’all. Let Ash give her his gift.”

  “Me?” Ashton asked from behind me. “I got a gift for her?” Wanda smiled affectionately while rolling her eyes. “Why I gotta gift Ms. Wanda? She ain’t my lady.”

  Everyone, including me, laughed at his weird humor.

  “That leggy cutie in front of you ain’t either,” Leon cracked.

  My mouth went dry and I froze. The entire room, with the exception of the kids, looked our way. One woman hit another’s arm as though the woman wasn’t looking already. Another woman hummed, calling scandal. I couldn’t move or speak, not that I’d say anything anyway. But I could leave…

  If I could just move!

  “That’s what’s wrong with Black people,” Ashton grumbled, moving around me. “Y’all don’t pay ya cable bill, and you don’t mind your damn business.”

  As a few people in the room fell out laughing, he handed his mother a black square box with a white bow. So many cracked up, relief showered over me.

  “Oh, my,” Wanda breathed out. “A Benz?” She held a key fob in the air. People screamed, shouted their amazement, and some clapped.

  “Happy birthday, Mommy.” Ashton leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  So emotional, Wanda grabbed his head to her with her free hand as she cried.

  “What kind of Benz, sis?” June tweeted over the rowdy crowd, obviously impressed and excited.

  Wanda lifted a small card from inside the box, then cried, “A brand spanking new CLS Coupe,” she wheezed, out of breath.

  “That’s how you do it, nephew!” June shouted and clapped.

  “My nephew’s king!” another woman hollered.

  So many clapped and a couple danced. I, once again, was dazed. What type of guy was this? A damn Benz? He’s buying Benzes? I knew Ashton wasn’t poor and he was crazy generous, but he bought his mother luxury cars when me and my friends paid bills for our parents as gifts—if we could afford it!

  “Come on,” he whispered in my ear before pulling me by one of the loops of my jeans out of the room. Once my brain kicked in, I followed him. In the hallway, he turned to me, resting his elbow on the wall. That “Before I Let You Go” song by the old group, Blackstreet, played loud on this side of the apartment. Ashton crowded me with his tall, hard body for privacy. “You okay?”

  I nodded without thought. “Time for me to go?”

  He shook his head with his forehead scrunched. “I’m in for the night.”

  I blinked, my head swinging side to side. “Me.” He didn’t understand. “I have to figure out where I’m going to stay. I can call my friend, Raj, or my trainer, Uppercut. They’re in New Brunswick. You think you can drop me off when it’s time?”

  What I really meant was when he was done with me for the night. But I didn’t say it outright, not wanting to sound like a child without a mind of her own.

  Ashton chuckled dryly, one side of his mouth lifting as though annoyed and angry. “You’re with me tonight.”

  I giggled nervously. Ashton wasn’t comprehending well tonight. “I know. I’m here with you now. I’m talking about to sleep. I need a place to stay—”

  His mouth dropped so close to mine, I could feel his breaths push between my lips. He grabbed my ass, pulling me into his hard body, and kissed me. The room may not have spun around me if he hadn’t wiggle my cheeks as he grinded into me. I wouldn’t have thought I was floating on air if he simply didn’t use his hands for the kiss. All of that while his tongue rubbed against mine, lips sucked softly. I struggled to keep up and control the throbbing between my legs. When he pulled back, the tip of his tongue rimmed the crease of my lips. “You’re not listening, Nabby-girl. You’re with me until we land on planet BSU tomorrow night.”

  My eyes flashed wide, a
wakening me from my daze. “Your mother!” I whispered.

  “She’ll know before we crash. Come on.” He turned and pulled me behind by the wrist.

  We landed in the living room, which turned into the hotspot. At first, people sat around eating another plate and holding conversations. Eventually, a card game began on one side and karaoke played on the other. Ashton and I sat in the middle, where I was able to watch over his shoulder as he played Spades and observed the performances.

  Ashton must have understood my need of being invisible because he didn’t force me to interact with anyone. He let me be, but stayed at my side while he enjoyed his family. A few times, he’d turn to me, grabbing my thigh to ask if I was okay. That was all I needed…and maybe a call from my mother. If only she could be as concerned about my well-being as my cousins. It wouldn’t have been a thought if I hadn’t see Ashton with his family. They all seemed…welcoming of him. It was clear to me they were happy to have him home.

  The hour grew late, and people began leaving in drib-drabs. Other than a run to the bathroom, I didn’t move from my seat. Ashton left to get us banana pudding once during a break, but came right back. I realized I’d fallen asleep when I felt soft taps at my face. My eyes opened to Ashton’s heavy ones. He was clearly tired, but smiled sweetly.

  “Time for bed.” His voice was throaty.

  I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Almost two in the morning. I’m gonna see my aunt and cousins out and lock up when they finish in the kitchen. My mom’ll give you a towel and washcloth.” He swiped my cheek with his thumb.

  I was too tired to ask about his mother, and if she was really okay with me staying. Feeling safe ruled out everything else, and with Ashton, that’s exactly how I felt.

  I stood, studying myself in the mirror. I was finally here—we were finally here. For close to two weeks, Ashton and I had been crossing the line between fellow-Panthers and something else for two weeks now. I’d started it with going down on him—well, he’d started it with threatening to not let him fuck me. I took it to another level by giving him head. It was wrong, but I had no regrets.

  And that’s who I saw in the mirror: just me. It wasn’t my mother or my cousins; women who had no problem being side chicks. I did, though. I never wanted what belonged to someone else. I still didn’t. The problem was, Ashton didn’t feel like he belonged to another girl. He felt like something just for me.

  If sex was what he wanted, how could I tell him no? I wanted it, without knowing what the it was. No, I wasn’t ready to have a guy shove his dick in me, but I did want to be close to Ashton in a special way. How bad could sex be? Look at how he made me feel with just one look from across the room. When he touched me—kissed me—I felt things in parts of my body I couldn’t touch, but could feel even in my dreams now. I wanted more of that with Ashton.

  But sex…

  I rolled my eyes, mad as hell at the energy I was putting into this. Just twenty-four hours ago, I was in crisis in my mother’s trailer. Now, I was stressing over something I couldn’t name. And it was Ashton; I’d figure it out. He may have annoyed me, but I felt such a “lightness” when around him. That was my peace and distraction from the nightmare at home.

  Making sure I didn’t leave anything out of order or my things behind, I glanced around the bathroom. It was big for an apartment: a tub with legs that looked like claws, mostly glass shower, and a faucet shaped like a fountain on a marble-top vanity. I gave a last check of the sink to be sure I didn’t splatter toothpaste when brushing my teeth.

  When I found myself, checking the sloppy ponytail on my head, I sighed, angry again. Clutching dirty clothes to my chest, I snatched open the door. My head swung left and right to be sure I was alone. I didn’t want to run into Wanda or anyone else in the family and be busted as the “side-chick” chicken head to their golden boy. I toed to Ashton’s bedroom, taking long lunges.

  Inside, his back was to me as he leaned into the bureau, talking on the phone. I went straight to my bag to dump my folded dirty clothes. The big-screen television was on with a low volume. Some cooking demo taking place. I pulled back the comforter on his bed that I’d seen had been unmade since I left for the shower. My mouth was pasty at this point, partly from having just brushed my teeth, and the other half from being nervous. The shivering of my legs annoyed the hell out of me.

  “Yes, sir,” Ashton spoke evenly, calm, and in his Blakewood tone. “I’m aware of that. I’ll be there. I believe Coach Green put it on my schedule.”

  He was shirtless, tattoos covering his chest, arms, and back. It made sense now. Ashton may have been Blakewood, but he was Newark, too. The influence was all in his swag. He knew how to turn it off and on. I could only hope to learn half of that talent in my time at BSU.

  Ashton chuckled. “I don’t believe that to be true, Mr. Jones.” Jones? A.D. Jones? “It’s my strong opinion that if Stephan A. Smith had attended an HBCU of the caliber of Blakewood, his renowned career would have been in athleticism and not just reporting on it.”

  I could hear the sharp cackle from the other end of the line. A smile spread on Ashton’s face. He listened for a while as Jones spoke. I waited patiently, struggling to make a decision about what in the hell would be going down tonight—well, this morning. It was almost three at this point.

  “I did, sir. Thanks,” Ashton nodded as he spoke. “I trust your Thanksgiving was filled with family and friends as mine was.” When his eyes landed on me, I quickly looked away. “Yes. I spoke with her earlier, and she told me how her sister, Sherell, was insistent on helping their cook with the green bean casserole this year.” He laughed. “I’m sure I’ll hear more details on the Coopers’ turkey day adventure all next week.” He paused, seemeing to let Jones finish his laughing fit. “Okay. You, too, sir. Give Ms. Tina my best.” He nodded. “No worries on the late hour. As you can see, I’m still up.” His eyes met me again, and I shifted my head to the television. “Goodnight.”

  After hanging up, I could sense Ashton moving toward the other side of the room. I kept my attention ahead, butterflies dancing in my stomach.

  Make the call now, Tori…

  Now!

  “I’m not fucking you tonight.”

  I whipped my neck hard to find him. My eyes blinked hard and fast, chest expanded. “What?”

  “I can read your body...laying there, full frame tense as you try to play cool. You’re avoiding looking my way. You want to fuck, and we won’t.”

  My eyes shamefully spun to the television. The volume totally tuned out of my head. His every word crushed me. Gutted me speechless. The one guy—one person—I could trust cut me deep with just words. How stupid could I be to open myself to a human?

  “Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you wait to see me at the airport tomorrow?”

  “Because I didn’t believe you had the money to make it back up to North Jersey.” His words poured effortlessly.

  “And if I didn’t, why would you care?”

  “You used your transportation allowance stupidly to support me. Why would I not make sure you got home for Thanksgiving to be with your family?”

  “Stupidly?” Stunned, I nodded, accepting his meanness. The Ashton Spencer I knew well. “And I ‘stupidly’ didn’t exactly spend Thanksgiving with my family. I spent it with yours. Again, why did you bring me here, you fucking weirdo asshole of a cheating human?”

  Quickly, his eyes flashed wide then rolled away, jaw flexing. He looked “stupidly” to the floor wordlessly. And almost as fast, I realized something happened. My heart dropped and I sucked in air through my nose. His face lacked its usual arrogance and murky grin. Ashton was stuck, busted, and vulnerable. I didn’t mean to shrink or embarrass him. Unlike him and his friends, I didn’t enjoy humiliating people. But how did I right his obvious pain? I was no good with words, not used to apologies. More than that, who ever got the opportunity to hurt the great Ashton Spencer? This was unreal!

  “You
want to know the truth? You wanna know how I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you? Tell you about how intense an experience it is for me to see you fight. And fighting!” He laughed bitterly. “I’m sure you’d love to hear how I snuck into a few of your practices and flew out to see your Minnesota fight, hiding in the back row where they didn’t turn the lights on.”

  I lost my lungs and my nails bit into the flesh of my balled fists.

  “How it’s so bad, I resent football and boxing, feeling they’re getting in the way of me exploring the first thing I’ve been fixated on since I released my pain on how my father would never spend time with me?” He heaved in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll admit obsessing over the fact that I didn’t meet you before three months ago. I fantasize about going to a local amateur, female boxing match, so I could have encountered a poor, tomboyish, big-titty chic, who, underneath is a fucking wonder. Or I can tell you how I cheated on Aivery with you long before that day in my therapy session when I let you put your lips on my dick.”

  His eyes finally hit mine, explaining what sounded like pain. “You want me to tell you I enjoy cheating on my girlfriend, even though I haven’t fucked you? How I wake up every day, hating that I haven’t tasted your pussy? Should I share about wondering what you’ve eaten, how you’ve worked out, and studied every fucking day like a goddamn sicko? Or if you’ve stuck up for yourself if someone had tried testing you like a fuckin’ big brother?”

  Ashton’s eyes squeezed shut and I was dizzy from a lack of oxygen. “Tori, it fucking grates my balls how crisp I can see your future in boxing if you’d just take yourself seriously, and at the same time, know it doesn’t include me. How much I’d trade that bright future just to steal you away as a piece of joy for me. I know every day I hang around you, I’m chipping away at your innocence.”