The Lies: The Lies We Tell About Love, Life, and Everything in Between

by Christina C Jones

I couldn’t argue with it, so I didn’t even try.

  I shook my head and changed the subject, asking her about her job instead. That led into her asking more about mine, and the conversation went on like that, until she’d completely finished my hair, then pulled it back into a series of cornrows to keep the freshly twisted roots in place while they dried.

  “I should probably go ahead and get to the shop,” she said as she stood, gathering the products and supplies she’d used up from the couch.

  “I can walk you over there,” I offered, and for some reason, she seemed surprised. “Uh… yeah, sure. I have to shower and stuff first, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

  I nodded, then dropped back onto the couch to wait. After several minutes had passed, I got up and went to the bathroom, where I heard the shower running before I eased the door open. She’d turned on the exhaust fan, so to my luck, the mirror wasn’t fogged, and I could do what I’d come to do anyway – get a look at my hair.

  “Damn, I can actually see my scalp again,” I said loud enough for her to hear as I bent to look in the mirror.

  She laughed from the shower. “Yeah, you were looking a little scruffy.”

  “You’ve got me out here swaggy as fuck now though,” I told her, and she laughed again.

  “Oh God, just what the women of this city need – Kyle Everett looking even better.”

  I chuckled at that, then turned to where I knew her naked body was, just on the other side of that shower curtain. After about two seconds of deliberation, I ambled over to the curtain, toying with the idea of peeking inside. As if she could hear my thoughts, Brandi suddenly peeked out, grinned, then sent a big splash of water in my direction.

  “Oh, that’s how you want to play, huh?” I asked, chuckling as I made quick work of stripping out of my clothes. It only took a few moments before I was climbing in the shower with her, making her giggle like crazy as I smacked her wet ass. “You’re in a better mood,” I said, ignoring her wriggling to wrap her in my arms from behind, holding her tight against my chest.

  She stopped moving to look at me over her shoulder, suddenly subdued, but with light still in her eyes. “Yeah. I am. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I told her, loosening my hold enough for her to turn and face me. She looked down between us, at my dick pressing against her stomach, then back up, pulling her lip between her teeth. I moved my hands from her hips to her face, dipping my head to take her mouth in a kiss.

  Immediately, her body formed to mine, pushing closer as she opened her mouth for my tongue. Her hands slipped between us, circling my dick, using the water spraying at us as lubrication to pump. I pressed her body to the slick shower wall, pushing my thigh between hers to get her to open up. When she did, I took my hands from her face to grip her water-slicked thighs, using them to pick her up. Her legs locked around my waist, and I pulled back from kissing her to look her in the eyes.

  “I’ll pull out,” I said, waiting for her to protest, or show any sign of discomfort with my suggestion. Instead, she rocked her hips into mine, in invitation, and that was all I needed before I positioned myself, then sank into her with nothing between us, and… goddamn.

  I didn’t even need a whole hand to count the number of women I’d forgone the use of a condom with, and now that I was buried to the root in Brandi, I wished I hadn’t added her to that number. The last thing I needed was another reason to keep coming back to her. She felt good enough to get addicted to from the other side of a rubber. Without one?

  “Fuck,” I groaned into the side of her neck.

  It was too late to turn back now though. Too late to do anything but stroke both of us into oblivion, enjoying the hell out of every little moan, groan, or whimper she let out. Her fingernails dug into my arms as I drove into her, with my hands planted firmly on her ass. Her head fell back against the shower wall, giving me full access to kiss and bite and suck her neck, too into it to worry about if I was leaving marks on her skin.

  “Kyle, shit,” she yelled, followed by a shuddering sort of moan as she dropped her hands to press her nails into my ass cheeks, a move I took to mean she wanted me to stroke her deeper. So I did. “Oh my God,” she groaned. “How is this even… this is… shit,” she said weakly, and I tightened my grip.

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “I know.”

  “It’s not right,” she said… or maybe sobbed, pressing her chin into the top of my head as I dipped to take her nipple in my mouth. As I sucked it, I stroked her harder, faster. “You… Ooooh, you make me sick.”

  With her breast still in my mouth, I chuckled, then brought my lips back to hers. “The feeling is mutual, gorgeous. How fucking dare you feel this good?” I asked, and she smiled against my lips, eyes squeezed closed. Her mouth shot open as I slid a hand between us, pinching her clit between my forefinger and thumb. I put a gentle pressure on it as a rotated my fingers together, and in next to no time, her legs were trembling so hard I could barely keep a hold on her, and she was letting out a string of incoherent something as she came.

  A few strokes later, I reluctantly pulled out, just in time for the evidence of my own orgasm to drain down the shower, instead of into her.

  I grabbed her, pulling her weakened body into my chest as the water started to run cold. I switched it off, then grabbed the oversized bath towel from the rack, wrapping it around both of us, which made her laugh.

  “I could fight you,” she said, ten minutes later as she unwrapped her hair from the scarf it had been in since I arrived. She’d gotten dressed quickly since her clothes were already picked out, and as I watched from the bathroom doorway, she simply refreshed the curls that were already under the scarf.

  “Most women would appreciate a nice dose of dick before work,” I teased, and she narrowed her eyes at me in the mirror before she used a little brush to groom her eyebrows.

  “Not before they walk to work, sir.” She picked up a tube of lipstick, swiping it on before she turned to me. “My legs still feel ready to get topped with marinara sauce.”

  “Shouldn’t be so goddamn fine,” I said, shrugging. “That shit is your own fault.”

  “You… are too much.”

  “Nah, that’s you.” I stepped into the bathroom, against her ass, and she laughed as she pushed me away.

  “I have to go, I have an appointment. Remember?”

  I smirked. “Yeah, I do. Stop rubbing on my dick so you can get to it, B. Damn sex fiend.”

  “Oh, whatever.” She pushed past me to get out the door, but I was right behind her, following as she grabbed her purse and found her keys. “You ready?” she asked, and I nodded, then used an arm around her waist to scoop her against me, pulling her in for a kiss.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I asked her, and she grinned.

  “Tuesday night movie with Zion. What about tomorrow?”

  “Parent night at KJ’s school. Thursday?”

  “That’s my late day at the salon… Friday?”

  I thought for a moment, then nodded. “KJ is with Audrey this weekend, so Friday is good.”

  “My dad wants to take Zion fishing this weekend, with his friends, and their grandsons. So…yeah. Friday is good.”

  “Cool. Consider it a plan.”

  {five} her lies

  “Uhh… what is this?”

  My eyebrows stayed lifted, face pulled into confusion as I accepted a full, cold glass of red wine from Zion’s hand. Obviously, it was intended to pair with the plate of cheese and crackers that he’d already put on the coffee table in front of me. Something was up with him – something I hadn’t quite put my finger on yet, but there was definitely something.

  “I just thought maybe you’d want a glass and some snacks while we watched TV,” he explained, with a smile that confirmed my suspicion. His little ass was about to ask for something.

  I didn’t say anything though. Except, “Thank You,” as he dropped onto the middle seat on the couch, and checked his phone. He tucked it into his
lap, and then his eyes went to the TV screen. My eyes stayed on him.

  I’d never imagined myself to be one of those mothers who cried about their kids growing up, wishing for the days when they were still babies. And, while I still wasn’t there, my eyes welled up a little bit as I watched him absently stroke the two sprigs of mustache hair that had started growing above his lip. It felt too soon for all that, but it wasn’t as if I could do anything about it. All I could do was watch him grow into a man, and hope for the best.

  I did a whole lot of that.

  I found myself wondering often if everybody spent as much time second-guessing themselves as I did. I mean… I talked plenty with Gia and Iris, and knew they had things they deeply wished they could go back and change, but… neither of them had a kid. I loved Zion, with everything I had, and he was my world. But pretending that his existence hadn’t completely changed the trajectory of my life would just be silly.

  It had.

  And from the point that I knew he was growing inside of me, almost every decision I made, was made with him in mind. But that didn’t mean they were the right ones.

  Gia wanted to be a lawyer. She wasn’t quite there yet, no, but she’d done college, done law school, worked at one of the top firms in our city, gaining experience that she’d be able to use once she was a lawyer. Iris had done college too, and loved spending her day running an IT department, even though she had her handmade jewelry thing on the side too. Since I’d first met her, in junior high, she’d been passionate about both of those.

  They were doing the things they’d always wanted to do, while I was stuck in the career I’d built out of…necessity. It wasn’t even like I felt like I had to be working in my passion to chase some elusive sense of happiness. I enjoyed styling hair, enjoyed the creative outlet, enjoyed making people look and feel good, but still. I couldn’t help thinking about those dreams I’d had as a teenager, and how I wasn’t even anywhere near accomplishing them, compared to my friends, and peers, who were making shit happen.

  And not only that.

  They’d loved.

  Yeah, they’d lost some too, but at least they could say that, as adults, they’d done it. I was thirty-one, and the only romantic love – not “like”, not “fond of”, not “obsessed with the dick. Love. – I’d ever had was with the eighteen-year-old who left teenage me heartbroken and pregnant with his son.

  I didn’t want to compare. Tried my best not to. Yes, I’d gotten a promotion, yes, my kid was healthy and happy, yes my life was pretty good. But that didn’t stop me from feeling like I was falling behind, and everybody else was leaps and bounds ahead of me. If this was a race… by this point, I’d already been lapped three or four times.

  I shook those thoughts away before they had me slipping back into, as I’d started calling them in my head, another gray area that would take me days to get out of.

  But the last one didn’t.

  I took a sip from my wine to keep from smiling to myself about that. Just last week, when I’d been drifting into that lane, Kyle’s energy had put me right back in alignment. Usually, I isolated myself. Put on enough of a mask to mother Zion and do my job. But outside of that, I tucked away to wallow in the stress of being a single mother, and trying to build a career, and being single when it wasn’t what I wanted, and a whole list of other shit I knew I wasn’t the only person going through, but it sure as hell felt that way sometimes.

  Kyle’s presence had forced a shift, and while I appreciated it, I couldn’t get used to it. I was getting a little too comfortable with him anyway. Raw sex? No. I hadn’t done that shit since I found out about Zion, and it couldn’t become a new standard. Especially not with Kyle, who maybe wasn’t the manwhore I thought he was initially, but… still.

  Luckily, in the several times we’d been together since then, there didn’t seem to be a question in either of our minds about it. Condom use was the default, not the exception.

  A knock at the door pulled me away from my thoughts.

  “I’ll get it!” Zion said, jumping up so quickly that it reminded me to be suspicious. Instead of waiting on the couch, I followed him to the door, hanging behind a little. He glanced back, looking nervous, and I folded my arms.

  “Open the door boy. Stop playing,” I told him, as the knock sounded again. His hands were shaking a little as he turned the deadbolt, then the smaller lock, and then he opened the door, revealing who was on the other side.

  My mouth dropped open as Scott greeted my son like they were friends – bumped fists pulled into a quick hug – and Zion stepped back to let him in. Scott’s eyes came to me, and the warmth there quickly gave way to confusion as he took in my expression. His gaze shifted to Zion, who was nervously looking back and forth between us.

  “You… didn’t say anything to your mother about this, did you?” he asked Zion, who scratched his head as he fumbled for an answer before I cut in.

  “Well, considering I don’t know what “this” is, I think it’s safe to say no, he didn’t. What the hell is going on?”

  Scott sighed. “I… Zion invited me to watch TV with you guys tonight. He said it was like a ritual, and he would appreciate me coming… but he was supposed to clear it with you first. Which, from the look on your face, I’m guessing he didn’t do.”

  “Not unless the glass of wine he gave me a few minutes ago was supposed to be some sort of substitute for opening his mouth about who he was inviting into my home.”

  “I was going to tell you ma,” Zion said, but I frowned.

  “When?! You do realize he’s standing right there, right now… right?”

  Zion sighed. “I’m saying, like…I wanted to ask you, but then I was like…there’s no way you were going to say “yes” to it.”

  “So you just do what you want then? Your mama’s feelings be damned?” Scott asked. My eyebrow lifted, but I didn’t say anything as Zion dropped his head.

  “It wasn’t like that. I just… wanted to be with both of my parents for a change. Is that bad?”

  Scott sighed, and shook his head. “No, it’s not. And I get it. We both get it. But you understood when I explained to you that I’d hurt your mother, right?”

  That time, both of my eyebrows shot up, and I sent a questioning, alarmed glare in Scott’s direction, which he ignored to focus on Zion, who nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay then… you can’t blindside her like this, it’s not cool. Not to mention, it makes it hard to trust you son, and once that’s broken… it’s damn hard to get back. You don’t keep things from your mother, okay?”

  “My bad.”

  “Excuse me?” Scott asked, with a rumble to his voice that made me blink a little harder.

  “Yes sir,” Zion corrected himself, then looked up at me, with glossy eyes. “I’m sorry mama. I should have made sure to ask you first.”

  I nodded. “Yes, you should have. But, like your father said… we understand why you did it.”

  Zion gave me a tentative smile, then stretched out his arms, suddenly looking like the three-year-old I didn’t think I missed again. I sucked my teeth, then held out my arms too, laughing when he pulled me into a hug. I pulled back to speak to him, and for a moment, I marveled at the fact that he wasn’t even eye level with me. With that growth spurt, he was the taller one now. No more hand under his chin to lift his lowered eyes when he got in trouble. I was lifting my chin to be on the same level as him.

  “You do not lie to me, okay? And no matter what, you can come and talk to me about anything. Anything. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Movement over his shoulder caught my attention, suddenly reminded me that Scott was still there. He was watching us intently, wearing an expression that was almost… longing. But he knew better than to even hope for that.

  When he realized I was looking at him, he quickly swiped a hand over his head, and looked away, clearing his throat. “I… uhh… I’m going to go ahead and get back home. Y’all have a good night,
and I’ll see you this weekend, Zion.”

  “Mama,” Zion whispered, as Scott headed for the door.

  “What is it son?”

  He sighed. “Mama, please?” he begged, and internally I cursed. A big, loud “Fuck!” screamed in the confines of my mind as I tried – and failed – not to be won over by the pleading in my child’s eyes.

  “Scott!” I called, through gritted teeth, then managed to soften my grimace before he turned around. I pushed a harsh breath out through my nose, and then, “You’re already here. I guess… I can tolerate you for an hour. I suppose.”

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Brandi, you don’t have to—”

  “Both of you get your asses over there and sit down before I change my mind.”

  I didn’t have to repeat myself.

  A few moments later, we were all settled on the couch, while an episode of Zion’s latest Netflix discovery for us – an action/thriller/comedy about an ex-spy playing superhero for regular people while he tried to figure out who’d betrayed him. Then, Zion was offering this man my crackers and cheese, but I didn’t say anything, because I was trying to be good.

  Surprisingly… it wasn’t as hard as I would’ve thought.

  When I cursed him out two weeks ago, or however long it had been, I’d been fully prepared to not speak to him again. He had Zion’s cell phone number, and he had contact information for my parents, who, infuriatingly, were actually starting to become mildly fond of him. Or at least, they were more accepting than I would have expected them to be of the man who’d left me with a baby and a broken heart. In any case, the point was, I didn’t have to talk to his ass, for anything, and after the way I’d gone in on him, I didn’t expect him to want to.

  And yet… throughout the night, there would be, “This is really good cheese. Where did you find this?”

  And I, somehow, found myself completely lacking the urge to stab him in the eye with my keys before I answered, “Wegman’s. Price wasn’t too bad.”

  Or, “Zion told me you got a promotion recently at the salon. That’s great, congratulations.”