August
Haven Trotter.
Who would’ve thought?
Back at BSU, when she split with Marcus – broke his heart, to be exact – there had been a pretty firm parting of ways. Her “group” resided at the intersection of smart, privileged, and non-athletic, so once she wasn’t with my homeboy anymore, I barely saw her.
Frankly, I didn’t have a group at all.
I just happened to have – kinda – grown up with Marcus. We weren’t really friends in the neighborhood, but we were the same age, so our paths often crossed. When we both landed at Blakewood – him on an athletic scholarship, academic for me – we spent a semester sharing a dorm room. Student services had this idea that rooming people from the same areas together would help with the transitions or something, and while I couldn’t say all that about it, we did become cool.
Well… I was pretty far from cool, but Marcus was cool as fuck, which brought my awkward ass untold benefits. Access to parties, interest from girls – all types of shit I’d never experienced.
I was… a nerd.
Honestly.
By the second semester, Marcus was moved to a more prestigious dorm, reserved for the school’s athletic talent – I expected the “benefits” of being his roommate to stop there.
He kept me looped in though, through freshman year and the next few as well, even once my studies and other responsibilities kept me mostly out of pocket.
So looped in that he was actually excited the day I hit him up asking for a ride to work after my piece of shit car had died. Finally, he was going to get the chance to introduce me to his girl – he was picking her up too, and they could drop me off on the way to their destination.
On the way, he couldn’t stop talking about her – how fine she was, how good her pussy was, how much of a bitch she was to him, which he inexplicably liked.
Adored, actually.
Which is why it felt so shitty to realize the full depth of just how accurate his description of her was.
Haven Trotter was fucking fine.
It was vivid in my brain – pulling up to her dorm to find her already standing outside. Marcus had declared his baby was standing right there, and my gaze followed his directive to the girl of my dreams – deep brown skin, long legs, bare midriff, titties perky and making themselves very well-known under her cropped BSU tee.
The very same walking wet dream I’d spotted across the quad the year before, and had never seemed to be able to find again. I didn’t know her name, what classes she was in, who her friends were, none of it. I had damn near convinced myself she was a figment of my imagination.
Until right then.
When she saw Marcus’ car, she flipped a handful of long hair over her shoulder, her pretty face sinking into a scowl as she crossed her arms.
I had no idea why, but she was pissed.
And I… was in love.
I know.
I know.
It was fucked up.
But it wasn’t like I acted on it.
I just… found more time to be around when she was around.
That’s all.
And in my defense, the energy she was giving me back wasn’t exactly innocent either, which was why, when she dropped him – with a dose of brutal honesty that wrecked his never-been-the-one-to-get-dumped feelings – I… went for it.
I tried to get at her, but she wasn’t having it.
Not that I could blame her for that.
But here we were now, a whole lot of years later, with her still looking just as good – even better. That face and that ass had both aged like fine wine, just as I’d honestly expected.
Not that I’d been pining after her or anything like that, but I’d be lying if I said she never crossed my mind.
Most recently, when Marcus had brought her up.
Some Blakewood alumni thing we’d all been invited to was coming up, and he’d hit me up asking if I was going. He was the only person from those days I really kept up with though – my none-awkward days had been far, far ahead of me.
So… nah.
I let him reminisce though, and we spent a bit laughing about that time, which had honestly produced some fond memories. And then, just before we got off, he’d said, “I oughta go just to show Haven Trotter what she missed out on when she broke my heart. I bet she’s busted now anyway.”
My immediate response was a mid-guffaw, “Nah. I doubt it.”
And because he was joking anyway, and because he loved Lena – his wife – down to her dirty draws, he was able to admit, “Man, you probably right. She was that type, huh?”
By that type he meant, the type to get more potent with age, and Haven had definitely done that. The evidence had been right in front of me, live and in lurid color.
Not that I could do a damn thing about it.
“Can you find somewhere else to be a bump on a log, instead of my couch?” my sister asked, shoving my head as she walked past with a glass of wine. “I’ve been at work all day, don’t nobody wanna look at you.”
“You asked me to come over here Ry, I could be at my own damn house,” I reminded her, accepting the beer she offered before she sat down.
“Oh. Right. Is it too late to say nevermind?”
“Hell yes.”
“Uggggh,” she groaned, tossing her head back on the couch. “I don’t wanna talk about this shit.”
“Even more reason for you to get to the point,” I reasoned, taking a swig. “What’s up? Something wrong with you?”
“More than the usual? No. It’s your damn grannie.”
I chuckled. “Oh she’s mine today, huh? What she do now?”
“Bruh. Recorded herself yelling for help and locked the tape recorder in the bathroom with the water running. Snuck out. Scared the shit out of the caretaker because she wanted to go to bingo.”
My eyes went wide. “She’s not even supposed to be out of bed, is she?”
“She sure the fuck is not,” January huffed. “So not only do we need to pay to have a door repaired, because Etta broke it down trying to save your granny’s fraud ass – we have to hire another caretaker, because she quit. Oh, and that agency is refusing to send us another one.”
“Damn, Geezy,” I mused, trying not to laugh, but Ry saw right through my attempts at keeping a straight face.
“It’s not funny, G.”
“Or, it’s definitely funny,” I countered. “Geezy is a damn scammer.”
“She is a terrorist – she scared the shit out of that poor woman!” Ry argued, and… she was right. That part wasn’t cool.
But the sheer dedication…
“You have to talk to her this time,” Ry demanded, lips pursed, head tilted to the side as she looked at me. “She won’t listen to her doctors, she wont listen to her caretaker, and she won’t listen to me, so it’s time for you to tap in, big brother. You were always her favorite anyway.”
“Her ass doesn’t listen to me either,” I argued back, shaking my head. “I already told her to sit down somewhere until she was recovered from surgery, and you see how that went.”
“Okay so tell her again.” January shrugged. “Either she behaves herself, or we’re going to have to start giving some serious consideration to a retirement community – a nice one, here in the Heights, or maybe Blackwood.”
I snorted. “You know damn well she’s not going for that.”
“She’s not going to have a choice if she won’t take care of herself, or participate in her care. So tell Geezy, her ass is going to Shady Pines if she refuses to get right.”
“You tell her that shit,” I laughed.
“I’m not speaking to her right now, I’m too mad.”
“So I gotta get cussed out?”
January smirked as she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “You can handle a little old lady, can’t you, big brother?”
“I’m still traumatized from the switches in the yard, so… barely,” I chuckled. “Nah tho, I’ll talk to her. As long as we’re cl
ear that it doesn’t really mean shit if she’s not in a listening mood.”
“I’m well aware that she’s just gonna do what she wants, but… we gotta try.” January drained the rest of her wine, then pushed out a hard sigh. “So… that’s all I had.”
“That could’ve been a phone call Ry.”
“I couldn’t call you ugly to your face over the phone though.”
“There it is,” I laughed, pushing up from the couch. “I love you too, baby sister. Odor and all.”
She sucked her teeth. “I don’t have an odor.”
I cringed. “Eh… I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but… you do stink a lil bit. An onion vibe, somewhere up in here,” I told her, gesturing to my own armpits.
Eyes narrowed, she dropped her head to take a whiff of herself, only for her head to snap up with a fierce look in her eyes. “Man get out of my house!” she yell-laughed at me, aiming a throw pillow at my head as I headed for the door. “I smell like roses, asshole!”
“You know what they say about that though, right? What they really smell like?”
“Byyyyye, G!”
I was still chuckling when I bypassed January’s roommate, Riley, on the stairs to their building. Luckily, she was on her phone, and motioned that she couldn’t talk – which I wasn’t trying to do anyway. Not that Riley wasn’t cool, I was just tired.
It had been a long ass day at the shop.
I’d spent more time than I actually had available flirting with Haven, knowing that we had some large orders to get through and were down a person. It was a pretty small operation, with only a few employees on staff – Me, four other workers, on rotating shifts, and Simone, the owner. Simone was at a floral show with two of the workers, one had the day off, and the other had called off at the last minute. So it was basically just me until the others got back, which wasn’t until the day was almost over anyway.
So like I said – I was tired.
Not so tired that I avoided the chance to pass by the bookstore on my way home. I wasn’t fronting when I mentioned to Haven that I’d intended to swing through – I really had. Busyness had kept me away, but they seemed to have been drawing a decent enough crowd. Despite my – harmless in intent – comment about bookstores these days, they definitely had an audience.
Tones&Tomes was… kinda poppin’.
The warm glow from inside was spilling out onto the street and so was the music, creating a pretty inviting vibe. I wasn’t about to play myself by going inside, but I peeked through the big front windows as I passed – I didn’t see Haven, but it was hours after she’d come by anyway – I wouldn’t have my ass at work anymore either, not if I didn’t have to be.
I’d catch her tomorrow though.
Did I already mention Haven was fucking fine?
Not to harp on it, but damn.
When I walked into the bookstore early the next morning, carrying the first box of the arrangements for the shop, it was the first thing that hit me really.
Back at BSU, her hair was always bone straight, hanging long and thick down her back. She still had it in abundance, only now she wore it natural, framing her face like some kind of glorious mane – a complement to her bare shoulders in a bright-colored, flowy dress that clung to her frame as she sauntered from behind the counter.
“I was expecting these yesterday,” she said, mischief in her eyes as she stopped in front of me to peek into the box. “I guess you weren’t playing about my priority status.”
“I already told you how you can move up the list,” I teased right back. “I’m ready to implement that upgrade any time.”
She smirked. “Oh, so dinner with you would be an upgrade?”
“It sure would. I’m not exactly the same nerdy dude from before, if you can’t tell.”
Her smirk shifted to confusion. “Um, I liked the nerdy dude, excuse you,” she said, watching me as I moved the box to the counter. “You think because I was cute, I only wanted the popular guys?”
“I think that shit was more than a decade ago either way, so… what I’m really trying to talk about is right now. Today.”
“And what about today?”
“Stop playing, and let me take you out, that’s what about today.”
A smile spread over her full, magenta-painted lips. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Bro code,” she explained. “I can’t be responsible for having you break that shit, and it travels a little too far into hoe shit territory for me.”
I frowned. “Bro code?”
“Yes, that’s what I said,” she insisted. “Or are you going to tell me you and Marcus Ingraham weren’t really that cool? Aren’t still cool?”
I sucked my teeth. “Man, I don’t even like that nigga like that. I was just… in his lil wedding or whatever…”
“Oh my God,” Haven laughed. “See? Y’all aren’t gonna be singing Haven… she smashed the homie about me. No sir.”
“It was a long ass time ago,” I argued.
“It was,” she nodded. “And maybe if the two of you were no longer in touch, I’d be a bit more open to it, but as it stands now, that is absolutely still your damn friend. And besides that… I don’t date.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You don’t date?”
“I. Don’t. Date,” she repeated back to me. “That’s just not where my head is right now.”
“And I can’t change your mind?”
Haven bit her lip as she gave me a once over – the kind that made blood rush to a very inconvenient place. “I’m sorry, but… gotta stick to my guns. You look good though. Real good.”
“Don’t tease me sweetheart,” I said, still good natured, cause there was no reason not to be.
I wanted her, bad.
Obviously.
But I wasn’t about to press the issue too hard.
Not all at once, at least.
There was time.
3
Haven
“Sis… I’m sorry, but I’m really not understanding the problem?”
Jemma held her wine glass out, waiting for me to refill it from the bottle I already had in my hand from topping off my own. Instead of pouring though, I held it closer to my body and scowled at her.
“You don’t understand how fucking two men who are friends might be a problem?”
On the other side of the office, Toni sucked her teeth. “It’s not like you screwed Marcus yesterday. BSU was a long time ago, and that man has a whole wife. It shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“Maybe if I hadn’t told the man his sex was wack, and broke his heart. He wanted to marry me,” I argued. It wasn’t like I was holding on to feelings about him, I just recognized that the situation was wack.
The problem was, I appeared to be the only one who saw it.
“You may have hurt his little feelings, sure,” Jemma said, a little more insistent with her refill gesturing now, so I went ahead and did it. “But he probably used it as fuel to get better. Think about it as you having done his future bedmates a favor. He should thank you.”
I laughed. “Yeah, sure – I’ll be sure to relay that message.”
“You’re playing, but ummm, back to the matter at hand… I just looked our old schoolmate up, and baby you were not lying about his ass aging like good liquor. That is a man,” Toni drawled, her eyes on her cell phone screen.
“Oooh, let me see,” Jemma insisted, hopping up from her seat to get to where Toni was. “Lawd. Haven, um… you sure about turning this down, cause…”
“What are y’all even talking about?” I said, walking over to see what they saw.
Oh.
Damn.
Apparently, he’d done a shoot with the same local photographer that was supposed to be coming to do a feature on the bookstore. I don’t know how sexy the photos were meant to be, but something about him with all his chocolate fineness and biceps out in a field of flowers was very… illuminating.
“This should be
corny,” I complained, snatching up my glass for another long sip.
“Should be? Yes. It’s not though,” Toni argued. “This motherfucker belongs on a book cover.”
Jemma nodded. “Yesss, one of the romance girls would put this to such good use.”
“He was cute in school, in his little quiet, nerdy way, but I wouldn’t have expected… this,” Toni continued as she scrolled a little more down his page, then looked up at me. “I’ve gotta admit – I see what you saw now when you told me you wished it had been him instead of Marcus. I mean, Marcus looked good, but this is… different.”
“Marcus Ingraham is a pretty boy now, so I bet he had that whole perfect Prince Charming thing going on back then,” Jemma spoke up. “This guy is like… a deeper, more homegrown kinda fine. Understated – the kind to catch you by surprise. What’s his name again?”
“August,” I told her. “And are we really about to have a whole conversation about his looks, instead of what y’all came to the Heights for?”
Toni smirked. “It’s not only about his looks – it’s also about if you’re gonna fuck him.”
“I’m not.”
“Eh, that’s debatable,” Jemma teased. “And besides that, there’s nothing else for us to talk about with my signing, because you’ve already taken care of everything.”
“Yep. Shouldn’t be so damn efficient and dependable if you want distractions from your friends trying to urge you onto your ex-boyfriend’s good friend’s dick.” Toni’s eyebrows shot up, and then she laughed. “Wow, that is… so much.”
“Too much,” I agreed, even though she definitely wasn’t on my side.
Neither of them were.
Jemma was having a signing here in the Heights soon, so the idea behind her and Toni coming up for a visit was to do any last preparations for that, as well as a check-in for me and Toni.
Only… they were right.
I’d already done everything that could be done, and was already thinking well ahead to the next events to be hosted at Tones&Tomes. Which is why we were in the back office getting wine-tipsy instead.
“I don’t know about y’all, but I need some food to soak up this liquor – I know this neighborhood has some good stuff to eat, don’t holding out on us,” Jemma said, draining the last of her wine. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
Me + Somebody's Son: A Heights Story Page 2
