by Nicole Falls
Before coming to her house this morning, he had decided to let her know how he felt about her. He had been tiptoeing around his feelings for her for the better part of a year and felt it was time. The scene at the graveyard, however, had him rethinking this course of action. So for now, he’d bide his time. Waiting until Tracee was fully healed and ready to open her heart again.
As they stood in the corral waiting for their wave of the obstacle runners to be released onto the course, Tracee silently observed Greg. He chatted with one of their fellow racers, easily and affably, grinning at a joke the man had made. He’d made sure to not let her drift too far from him, keeping their fingers laced to ensure she’d be by his side as the area thickened with people. She tried not to put too much thought into the motivation of his action, assured that he just wanted to ensure that they didn’t get split up too early. Tracee felt a tug on her hand, causing her to look over in Greg’s direction.
“You good?” he asked, concern etched across his face as his brow furrowed, “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past couple of minutes.”
“Yeah…I am…I must’ve drifted. My bad. You ready?”
Greg grimaced slightly and responded, “About as ready as I’ll ever be. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this mess.”
“Wait…you were the one who insisted on us doing this!”
“Only after you casually brought it up about a thousand times,” Greg teased.
Tracee opened her mouth to reply when the loud speaker announced that their wave would be beginning in just a couple minutes. At this announcement, the both of them did their last minute stretches to limber up their bodies. Soon the thirty-second countdown began. Tracee grabbed Greg’s hand again, squeezing to make sure he looked her way.
“Hey,” she began, before rising on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to Greg’s cheek, “Thank you.”
Greg pulled her close, landing a kiss on her forehead, “You’re welcome.”
The sound of the gun signaling the race’s start startled them from their embrace and the two friends began the obstacle course. The very first obstacle, called the barrel bounce let Greg know just what kind of mess he was in for with the rest of this course. They were expected to leap over five inflatable barrels, each three feet high. There was a four-foot distance between each barrel in which they could gather the strength and endurance needed to propel themselves over barrel after barrel. Tracee easily bounced her way through the first, laughing as Greg landed ass first after his first barrel leap. He soon found a rhythm and they both moved onto the next obstacle, which involved maneuvering over a balance beam like apparatus while avoiding large, inflatable swinging balls. One false move on this obstacle meant landing in a pool of water. Both narrowly escaped this challenge without being knocked into the pool.
A few more obstacles that required strength and resilience were easily conquered by the twosome as they moved through the course at a rapid pace. Tracee’s endurance was bolstered by her regular gym visits, while Greg was just trying to keep up. He was a less regular gym visitor, but still was in good enough shape to manage not to fall too behind her. Soon they had reached the final obstacle of the race.
Peering up at the very large inflated ladder that lead to the waterslide to victory that signaled the end of the race, Greg took a deep breath. Tracee had already began climbing and he followed behind, trying his damndest to keep his eyes of her perfectly rounded ass cheeks which flexed with each step she took up the ladder. When he reached the top, he saw her waiting for him—arm stretched out, beckoning him to come closer. He grabbed her proffered hand and began the descent down the long waterslide to the finish line.
At the bottom of the slide, Tracee popped up immediately feeling invincible. She splashed around, kicking up water as if she was one of Beyoncé’s background dancers during “Freedom”. They’d done it! She finally made it to and through this thing she had been plotting and planning to do for so long. It was a bittersweet moment as the person she’d initially planned to do this with wasn’t here to share in the victory, but his substitute wasn’t half bad. She looked around to find Greg still lying on his back at the bottom of the waterslide. She sank down next to him, watching as his chest heaved as he struggled to regain control of his breathing. After a few seconds, he sat up, grinning.
***
In the weeks after the obstacle race, Greg and Tracee’s time together increased. They went from getting together every once in a while post grief group to thrice-weekly outings. Tracee had even become a regular fixture at the MacPherson family Sunday dinners, much to Greg’s mother’s delight. Despite being told a number of times that Greg and Tracee were friends, she still held out hope for them to be something more. This Sunday evening, Greg and his brother Geoff sat drinking scotch on the veranda, while the women were inside looking at the arrangements for a party Mrs. MacPherson was throwing soon. She’d specifically mentioned needing to get “her girls” second opinion on her choices since her sons couldn’t be bothered with giving any real feedback.
Greg looked over to see his brother staring at him once again. He’d felt Geoff’s eyes on him at several junctures of the night, but hadn’t been able to talk to him about the strange looks until now.
“Bro, why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“When are you gonna tell her?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb, bro. When are you gonna tell Tracee? I’m hoping it’s soon otherwise I’m gonna lose the bet!”
“What bet?”
“Well Cady and I kinda wagered on when you’d come to your senses and tell Tracee you’re in love with her. It’s obvious to everyone, man.”
“You and your wife gotta chill. Is this why she stopped throwing Dev in my face?”
“That among other things…but seriously if you could handle that between now and,” Geoff paused to look at his watch, “three hours from now, that’d be great.”
“Wait…what do you mean, it’s obvious to everyone?”
“Haven’t you noticed mama hasn’t invited any more ‘special guests’ to dinner once you started bringing Tracee? How she refers to her and Cady as ‘her girls’…as in her daughters; not her homies, man. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you don’t think she…or anyone else is looking. You’ve got it bad, bro. You look even more pathetic than when you first brought Lyss around, man. You gotta say something. And the sooner the better, so I don’t lose this bet.”
Greg laughed at his brother’s pleading. He knew he needed to say something to Tracee sooner rather than later, but was still working up the courage to see where things stood with them. He didn’t want to come off as pushy or like he was taking advantage of their friendship to make her want more, but it was also getting increasingly difficult to hide his true feelings for her for much longer.
“Easier said than done, bro. It’s complicated.”
“Then simplify it, nigga. You’re a good dude, bro. Tracee would be crazy to turn you down.”
Tracee slowed her stride back to the veranda when she heard her name. Mrs. MacPherson had sent her to fetch Greg and Geoff so that they could all enjoy coffee and dessert together. Not wanting to interrupt what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, she lingered for a bit—waiting for a break in order to pop in and interrupt. While she waited, however, she overheard Greg telling his brother about the depth of his feelings for her and not knowing how to broach the situation. He rightfully assumed that she was still grieving Roderick and unable to move on quite yet, but had no idea of the feelings that she’d felt developing for him. She stood there for a few minutes more, eavesdropping before Cadence approached asking what was taking so long. Tracee tried to play it off like she’d just walked out to the landing leading to the veranda and followed Cadence as she called out for the guys to come in for dessert.
Once everyone was resituated around the table, Tracee took the time to really observe the scene around her. Cadence and Geoffrey were in dee
p conversation as Greg and his mother shared a laugh over a comment made about the store bought cake his sister in law brought instead of the usual homemade desserts she provided. Tracee was unusually quiet as she replayed the conversation that she’d overheard earlier in her mind. The whole time she had been trying to reconcile and squelch her feelings about him, Greg had been wrestling with his own. In that moment she decided that she would reveal how she felt to him by night’s end. There was no need to delay it, especially if he was feeling her in the same way she was feeling him. As if he could read her thoughts, Greg turned to her and smiled. Looking into his eyes, the depth of his feelings was evident. Tracee didn’t know how she’d missed it before.
“Hey, you all right?” Greg asked.
“Yeah…hey can we get outta here? I’m getting a little tired,” Tracee replied, feigning a yawn.
Greg looked at her skeptically, but acquiesced. They parted ways with his family, with Tracee promising to bring her bourbon sweet potato pound cake that she bragged about finally mastering as dessert for the next dinner. As they gathered their to-go plates, Mrs. MacPherson gathered Tracee into a tight hug and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for bringing my baby back to me.” Tracee pulled back slightly with a quizzical look on her face, but Mrs. MacPherson didn’t elaborate, just gave her one more squeeze and sent them on their way.
The entire ride over to Tracee’s house was silent. Both Greg and Tracee were deep in their thoughts, each wondering how they were going to broach the subject of taking their friendship to the next level. Greg was scared of losing what they had built so far, while Tracee was excited about the possibility of what was to come. Knowing he would let the car idle while walking her to the front door to ensure her safety, Tracee asked Greg to come inside before they’d reached her block.
“I have something I’d like to run by you,” she said.
“A good something or bad something?” Greg teased.
“A very good something…I hope,” Tracee responded, thankful for the cover of night to hide the slight blush that tinged her cheeks.
Soon they arrived to Tracee’s house and Greg followed her inside. They walked into her living, sitting on the sofa in silence before Greg spoke up.
“You said you had something you wanted to run by me?”
“I…uh…yeah…but I don’t know how…ah fuck it,” Tracee said before grabbing both sides of his face between her palms and drawing him in for a kiss.
Greg was initially taken aback, but quickly recovered, taking control of the kiss. Tracee moaned and drew herself closer to him as he deepened the kiss. Only the necessity of breathing tore them apart after minutes of savoring each other’s mouths. Once she caught her breath, Tracee glanced over at Greg and asked sheepishly, “So um…what do you think?”
His response was a brief chuckle before drawing her back into his arms and kissing her with all the pent up desire that he had been withholding for months. He could hardly believe that not only was he finally kissing Tracee, but also she had initiated it. He felt her hands creeping beneath his shirt, tracing the light dusting of hair that went from his abdomen down to his pubic area. As her hands started to fumble with his belt and eventually unbuttoned his jeans, Greg pulled back slightly. Tracee’s eyes opened almost immediately and she looked embarrassed.
“Sorry, I got kinda carried away,” she said, backing up trying to extricate herself from his embrace, “My bad. I’m sorry for overstepping…”
“Wait…hold up. I don’t…you…Trace, look at me.”
Her gaze stayed lowered as she tried to steel herself to look at him. She’d come on a bit too strong and was embarrassed by her aggression. Tracee now second-guessed her approach. Maybe this wasn’t what Greg wanted. Maybe she wasn’t what he wanted.
“Hey…come back to me,” Greg said softly, lifting her head so that they were staring eye to eye.
Tracee looked in his eyes and was taken aback by the depth of emotion she saw there. She bit her lower lip, trying to control the grin that threatened to break out all over her face. Greg leaned over and placed gentle kisses on her mouth until she released her lower lip from between her teeth. They traded lazy kisses back and forth before Tracee pulled back completely.
“So when were you gonna tell me….you know?” she asked.
“When were you gonna tell me?”
Tracee grinned, “Nope, I asked first.”
“Well…I was gonna tell you after Roc Race. And then again at Paula’s brunch. And then again after we hiked at the Peak.”
“So what happened?”
“I chickened out. Didn’t wanna lose you. Didn’t know if you’d have me in that way. Didn’t know you could ever want me in that way.”
“Gregory Alan MacPherson! Are you serious right now? You can’t be serious right now!”
“You friend zoned me!”
“You friend zoned yourself, sir. And me! You think I really wanted to hear about your dates with randoms?”
“You always listened…and even encouraged me to give some of them a second chance.”
“I was being The Homie. A role you put me in, sir!” Tracee said, poking Greg in the chest.
Greg grabbed her hand and pulled her into an embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“We both had it all messed up, huh?” Greg asked.
“I guess, so,” Tracee replied on a sigh.
“Ain’t too late to fix it, though.”
“Never too late for second chances.”
BROWN SUGAR
You know I got the sauce…you know I’m saucy… I sang along at the top of my lungs while swaying my hips to the beat of the song that had become my latest anthem. Who cared that the song was old as hell by now, its pertinence never rang more true than now. After a lengthy hiatus, your girl was back on the scene, ready to mix and mingle and let these brothas know what was really good. Long-term engagement was the last thing on my mind as I looked around the spot in search of a willing victim. New Sydney didn’t come looking to find love in the club; she came to get fucked.
Much to my chagrin I’d been coming to this spot for a couple of weeks, alone, trying to summon up the courage to leave tethered. And every week my night ended the same, face flushed and legs exhausted from dancing all night, with no suitable prospects in sight. Plenty of dudes had approached over the past three weeks, but the vibe never felt right. Still…something kept me coming back to this place. Tonight would be different though; I felt it in the air. The energy around me felt magnetic and hopefully…that shift would manifest something magical.
The song changed from the Rihanna jam to some unintelligible mumbling about a dab of ranch and I took that as my cue to sit a minute to gather my bearings. I made my way over to the bar to get water and I felt as if I were being watched. A quick glance around the club showed no one paying particular interest to me specifically, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I raised a hand in the air to catch the attention of the bartender, Kisha. As soon as recognition sparked in her eyes, she concocted and brought me my usual. Tonic water flavored with a splash of Rose’s lime juice and a lemon, lime and two cherries as garnish. I passed her a ten and she blew an air kiss in my direction. A decently sized tip on a free item this early in the night guaranteed that every time she saw my face going forward, I’d be high priority.
I swiveled around on the barstool to peep the scene. Tonight was the night…Mister Man was in this joint just waiting for me to snatch him up and take him home. Now if only I could figure out which one of these guys was him…that’d be great. It certainly wasn’t the brother to my left that had been trying to get my attention after I accidentally made eye contact. Aesthetically he was finer than frog hair, but he was the kinda fine that knew he was…a little too pretty. I continued my perusal of the crowd. That nagging feeling like I was being watched still gnawed at me, I shook it off and continued to bop in my seat and people watch.
Not realizing I was as thirsty as I was, I drained my water and turned back
to signal Kisha for another. My chair had barely made a full revolution before I heard a voice very close to my ear.
“Lemme get your next one for you, sweetheart. I’m Kellz. What you drinkin’?”
Immediately turned off by the tartness of the breath attached to the voice in my ear, I turned to see Handsome McFuckboyface who I’d mistakenly made too long of eye contact with a few minutes prior. I backed up on my stool slightly to put a little space between us.
“It’s just water. I’m good. Thanks!” I trilled as politely as possible and turned away willing Kish to look my way.
She was preoccupied at the other end of the bar with a group of friends who were doing a shotski. Sir Tart Breath inched closer again.
“C’mon ma. You can’t just be drinking water all night? You coulda stayed at home for all that. Lemme buy you…what’s the girlie shit y’all females be drinkin’? A sex on the beach or mojito or something…”
I had to bite me lip to refrain from laughing too hard as he pronounced mojito with a hard j. Lord help him…and help me. I didn’t want this to turn into a situation, so I politely rebuffed his drink offer again. I tried shifting once again to put some space between us, but if I moved one more inch I’d be ass on the floor.
“Kellz, was it? Hey…can you…um…back up just a little bit? I mean it’s crowded in here and I’m a little warm…” I trailed off, using one hand to fan myself, hoping he’d get the hint.
“My bad, ma. I was just tryna make sure you could hear me over the music and all. What’s your name, I didn’t catch it?” he asked.
I didn’t throw it, nigga. I thought
“Renee,” I lied, giving him my club name that I hadn’t used since undergrad.
“You wanna dance? I seen you out there working it out to Rihanna?”
Before I could answer him, I felt a pair of hands envelop my waist and a velvety smooth voice say in my ear, “Just go with it.”
