by Love Belvin
Yup…
Mandee would be here with Jimmy for that, too.
Shoot!
I placed the three sticks on the counter next to the sink to quickly wipe myself.
Who in the world takes three at a time?
Me. That’s who. I stood to flush the toilet then washed my hands. My darkly lined eyes caught my attention in the mirror and after drying off, I began to fuss with my hair. Too much was happening at once. I was getting ready for a for real date—a double date, actually—with Rut and his friends. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on a date before Rut. Maybe in the earlier days of knowing Jimmy? We’d go out a lot. But did I have the anxiety I felt bubbling in my gut tonight?
I smoothed back the slick pull of my ponytail, going back to an afro puff I bought yesterday from the beauty supply store. Taking a breath, I decided my look actually came together. Gosh! When was the last time I stressed over what to wear, wanting to look good for a guy? But as I adjusted the straps on my dress, I approved my look and hoped Rut would, too.
Rut…
My shoulders sank from a flash of grief as I lifted the pregnancy test sticks, trying to decipher what one meant from another. They were three different brands: Clearblue, First Response, and some generic brand I plucked for good measure. It had been just two weeks since the Sherry episode, and just as before it, Rut had been over nearly every night. The man refused to allow more than two nights away from me.
And the sex…
It had been just as consistent and spell-bounding as it started. He went home to visit last week and was supposed to stay two nights but ended up at my door, knocking at three in the morning, claiming he tried hanging out at one of his regular strip clubs down there but needed sleep more. Sleep was synonymous with “Parker” according to Rut. I believed that was a bunch of bologna. Rut liked spending time with me as much as I did him. I, too, tossed and turned when he wasn’t underneath me, but I stifled my grievances well.
But we made the most of the time we spent together. If we weren’t laughing at his arrogance, we were sharing about our days. If we weren’t fighting over my business model I’d been putting together, we were making love—although Rut referred to all sex, using the ‘F’ word to my extreme dismay. Either way, we’d pretty much been responsible with protection the whole month since we’d kicked off this part of our relationship. However, Mandee’s cautioning that evening, a couple of weeks ago hadn’t escaped my conscience. And it led me here, out of all days. I was sure it was senseless, I’d been feeling like myself lately.
The knocking at my bedroom door startled me.
“Parker!” Mandee yelled out to me. “Rut’s here!”
I leaped in my heels and placed the sticks down before clucking out of the bathroom. After grabbing my purse, I made my way down to the living room where Rut was on the phone, his back to me. Almost as though he sensed me, he turned with a tight brow line. His expression was hard as his dark eyes perused my body, beginning from my open toe sandals to my sleek pullback crown. When his regard returned to meet my eyes, he didn’t speak. He switched hands with the phone and extended his arm, inviting me to join fingers. I couldn’t help my smile when I bolted, my feet taking off for him.
“And my heart…
My heart’s no longer your toy.
Time’s up for the fuckboys!”
I was hoarse but highly emotional as I sang along with Brielle. My thrumming body swayed left to right with my arm in the air as I sang. Man! I loved that song. It was new from her latest album, but I knew each word to that track—most of her tracks.
The anxiousness felt back in Connecticut was still with me but in a new way. Jordan Johnson and my boss’ daughter, Cole Richardson, were our double date. That, I was expecting. Rut told me last night how instead of a triple date, as originally planned, it would only be four of us. It was cool hanging out with the newlyweds. I may not have been able to bear witness to their nuptials, but it felt good experiencing their wonderful energy as man and wife.
I couldn’t believe we drove down to New York City to see Brielle’s show at Madison Square Garden! When I asked why didn’t we catch her last week when she played the Hotep Black Financial Bank Stadium, Rut said he wanted to make me feel like we were on a real date. Going to “work” for play seemed rather bootleg to him. I appreciated the thoughtful gesture.
And it had been a romantic night, beginning with dinner at DiFillippo’s where I had Rut’s favorite pizza again. I’d never been before tonight and had only been familiar with it because of Eli’s friend, Azmir Jacobs. He owned the restaurants.
Cole sat next to me and had been surprisingly different all night than I was used to seeing of her. Around the office complex, she was all business with little pleasantries and zero small talk. Here, with her new husband and Kings’ franchise wide receiver, she was…a girlie girl.
Tonight I learned Cole was…funny, smart, and very much cultured. I hadn’t met many women my age who could speak to the display of cultural gender bias black American cellist, Ameerah, received when a video of her performing oral sex on rapper, Young Lord, “leaked” in one breath, and the evolution of twerking in the next. My Rut didn’t like the topic involving his latest favorite rapper although we argued great points on how Young did nothing to stand by her side when the video broke and fans were calling her all types of come-up whores known in the urban dictionary. Cole agreed it was also disgusting how basketball player, Alton Alston, had Young Lord perform at his birthday party last year to poster against them having beef for both having slept with Ameerah. I mean… I liked Young Lord, he was a skilled rapper, but what if Ameerah used them both instead of the popular belief of her having been dominated by them?
When Brielle closed the show, my heart was filled yet disappointed. Very few could command a stage like this woman. I would forever be a fan of hers. She was strong, fearless, cutting edge, and unapologetically woman.
“C’mon, Park.” Rut’s warm hand rested in my lower back, cuing me to follow Cole.
She’d begun trailing after Jordan to leave the arena. My pulse was still racing from the endless reservoir of stamina Brielle had delivered for over two hours. We managed out of the massive seating area where people—mostly women—shouted for Jordan, and surprisingly, Rut’s attention. I kept my face low, following the backs of Cole’s red sole heels as Rut clutched me protectively. I couldn’t believe it when we stopped at what was clearly backstage where there was a small crowd gathered in front of a backdrop and cloth flooring. I stood to the tips of my toes to peer ahead of the sea of bodies and spotted Brielle smiling for the camera as she posed with a fan.
My neck shot over and up to Rut, who coolly nodded, answering my unspoken question. We were back there to meet Brielle. And it didn’t take long. Jordan’s bodyguard was barking for us to come to the front of the line where Jordan greeted Brielle first. She was tiny in person yet flawlessly gorgeous as she appeared on camera. Her eyes lit with familiar discovery when Jordan approached.
I could hear Cole croak, “Hi,” shyer than I thought she was capable of when Jordan immediately hooked her by the waist and invited her into their greeting.
Right away, the three took pictures together. Jordan’s security was sure to capture it with their phones. Then Jordan whispered something to Brielle just before waving us over.
“Go, Gray,” Rut’s thick vocals commanded. “I’mma take the pic for you.”
My eyes swelled nervously. Really? I was about to take a picture with the Brielle and my Rut was going to facilitate it?
“Come on, Parker,” Jordan’s deep vocals called as Rut swiped my phone from my misted palm.
I quickly ambled over to them, under the bright spotlights. Jordan and Cole backed up and small toned arms of the entertainment goddess, whose frame was not much different from my own, encased me. Of course, Brielle was more fit and stunning. She smelled divinely to have just stepped off the stage after hours of dancing in heels.
“Hi,” she beamed. “Parker?”
My eye ballooned. “Ye—yeah. Yes!” I couldn’t believe she knew my name. “Oh, my god, Brielle, I can’t believe I’m here with you!” My body began to tremble.
“Well, I’m here. I see your rookie boo brought you to see me.” She tossed her chin ahead.
When I followed, I heard, “Yo, Gray!”
It was a familiar bark before lights began to go off. My eyes blinked for the first seconds then settled and I forged a smile I was sure was goofy.
“It was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you around at one of Jordan and Trent’s crazy ass parties.”
My eyes flew wide again. She was looking forward to seeing me again?
“Gray!” Rut shouted with impatience.
It worked. I was reminded I was on someone else’s time and got with the program.
With a gentle nod of appreciation, I replied, “Looking forward to it. Thanks, Brielle.”
“See ya!” She waved with the brightest smile.
Before I knew it, an Asian woman with fire bright red hair was stepping between Brielle and me. I turned to look for my party and found Cole and Jordan laughing way too hard while staring at me. Then my regard shifted to Rut, who shook his head as his hand extended my way, urging me to him. On a small leap, I skipped his way, causing Cole and Jordan to sputter in laughter even louder.
“Yo, why TB and them ain’t come tonight?”
I knew TB was Trent Bailey, but Rut’s question made me curious.
Jordan snorted and Cole rolled her eyes while she chuckled as though embarrassed.
“Man, you know TB and Brielle got some history.”
“Oh, word?” Rut gasped. “That shit true?”
Cole answered, “Depending on which part of it.”
“Like…” Rut hesitated. “They fucked?”
“Ugh!” Cole covered her face and curled over playfully.
“What?” Rut laughed, confused.
I was, too.
Jordan took Cole at her shoulder, pulling her into him. “My lady likes to think of Brielle as some damn saint.” His dimples deepened as he glanced down at Cole, eyes filled with mischief.
“No. I don’t!” Cole protested, still in humor. “Brielle is a woman of the time. She’s a girl millennial boss—”
“See!” Jordan joked, speaking over her. “Told you. Stanning!”
“No!” Cole argued. “My point is, she’s a woman. Why wouldn’t she have a sex life? Just because something she wants to keep to herself goes public doesn’t make it a scandal.”
Jordan rolled his eyes teasingly.
“Yeah. That was crazy,” Rut added. “But I ‘on’t even think the blogs picked up on it. I was surprised as hell.”
I was, too. When that story broke a couple of years ago, the whole front office was buzzing with shock. Brielle and Trent Bailey?
“But TB was cool on it,” Rut continued. “I ‘on’t see him trippin’ on Brielle.”
“Oh, he ain’t,” Jordan made clear.
“But my girl, Jade…” Cole added before she and Jordan’s regards met knowingly and they both fell out laughing at the same time.
The alcohol had definitely been flowing all night. Even I was ready for a private after party with Mr. Amare.
“What about Jade?” Rut tossed his chin down to me. “That’s Parker’s peoples.”
“Let’s just put it this way. When it comes to that nigga, everybody’s defeated when Jade steps in the ring.” Jordan couldn’t stop laughing.
“Let’s put it this way.” Cole’s hand shot in the air. “Jade would have shot up The Garden before Brielle sang her first note tonight.”
Another round of laughter shot through the limo. This time by all four of us. Jade had spoken of jealousy issues when it came to her husband, but I’d dismissed it as new bride tough talk. Besides, Jade married a celebrity. Trent was a franchise player for the Kings. But Jordan and Cole’s reaction here in the limo told me my dear Jade was a pint-sized pit bull.
“That’s crazy,” Rut hummed, stretching his long legs as he sat back, arm gripping me tighter to him. “I didn’t believe everything I heard in the media before I got signed. And now that I am a King, I definitely don’t believe shit they say. Especially them bootleg ass blogs.”
“Don’t sleep on all of them, though,” Cole warned, tucking her feet beneath her on the bench as she leaned into Jordan.
“Which ones?” I asked, wondering what she meant.
“There are a couple of them with a seventy percent or more accuracy ratings,” Cole assured.
“Like who?” Rut trilled.
“For sure, Arnez and Arizona.” Jordan counted from his hand. “Definitely, Spilling That Hot Tea. Them bitches—”
“Jordan!” Cole scolded.
“What?” he shrieked. “Nobody know who they are. And if it’s some dudes involved in gossiping, they’re hardcore bitches, too!”
I busted out laughing, head tossed back.
“I’m just saying.” Cole rolled her eyes, snuggling more into him.
“What the hell you saying?” Jordan scoffed. “You saw that strings of posts they did on Jameson’s finances. They posted his foreclosure threat notices from his fuckin’ bank, Nicki!”
I felt Rut’s big frame tense around me.
Shit…
We needed to change the subject and quick.
“All I’m saying is we, the Kings’ franchise, are passionate and active about teaching financial sustainability and social responsibility.” Cole paused to yawn. “We give resources to you players to warn you of the dangers of mismanaging money and overspending. We also have resources for personal crisis such as addiction. If players don’t take advantage and leave themselves at risk for the media to use their crisis as fodder to sell tabloids or get likes on a status, what more can we do?”
“But he good,” Jordan kept with the back and forth. His hand even swung in my direction. “He working the shit out.”
Parker’s eyes climbed up to me.
My brain spit out something I ain’t even know was anywhere near it. “So y’all believe what they’re saying about ya boy, Ragee?”
Jordan and Cole’s heads whipped to face me at the same time as they both spoke. “What?”
What?
I had no fucking clue why I even mentioned dude until I realized one of his songs was playing in the limo.
I unscrewed the water bottle and pulled it up to my mouth. “You know.”
“About him being gay?” Cole scoffed then laughed.
“Fake marriage?”
“He goes to my church,” Parker chimed in. I almost pissed in my pants, so relieved that had her attention. “I’m still new and don’t see him a lot. But I’ve seen him a time or two and that man is crazy spiritual—not that it can’t mean he’s gay. But I don’t know… I just don’t get those vibes from him at all. Maybe weird, but not queer.”
“Long as you know I ain’t queer, you good,” I growled at her, pulling her on my lap. Parker’s cry was sharp in the limo, but I didn’t give a damn. I leaned over and sucked on her neck, loving the taste/smell combination. Damn. This girl is driving me fucking insane. “What’s queer about what my dick make you do?”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!” Cole shouted.
“Kadaaaaaaaar!” Parker screamed then giggled over my lap.
“Oh, she know that full government!” Jordan laughed.
I felt the limo slow to a stop.
“Yo, that’s you two,” Jordan yawned.
My head drew up and through the dim lights of the limo I saw a row of lawns and houses.
Shit…
I lifted Parker from my lap and grabbed her clutch. “Peace to the god and earth,” I was swift with my words. “I gotta pee like a muthafucka.”
I reached over and gave Jordan some love then crouched to land a kiss on Cole’s cheek.
“C’mon, Gray,” I rushed as Parker repeated my actions, giggling with Cole at my flash movements.
We were out of the door and I pushed Parker on at the waist, leaning over her. She laughed all the way up the driveway.
“Rut!” she whispered hard, not being able to stop laughing. “You better not make me fall!”
“Hurry up and get the key out, dawg!”
She fumbled to open her purse, hand wiggling inside for the keys. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard them coming out. She let us in without a minute to spare, and I bolted straight to the stairs for her room. When I walked in, the bathroom light was still on, opening a path there. I went straight for my belt buckle before hitting the doorway. I came to a sloppy stop at the toilet and groaned when the first of it spurted inside. My eyes closed and head rolled back.
Now I could finally plan how I was going to blow her damn back out tonight. I struggled keeping my hands off her since the moment she stepped into the living room when I picked her up. My moan had me craving her cries of pleasure. That damn Parker was driving me crazy with the way she stayed on my mind. I never felt this way about a broad. Never had a chick made me want to do the crazy shit I had and the rest I’d been thinking to make happen.
I wiggled to make sure the last was released before wiping myself and flushing the toilet. I hit the faucet to turn on the water and my attention went straight to my face. My eyes were pink. Shit… I was tired. League life was different from college ball—or maybe I’d been working harder because I had so much to prove? Either way, Parker had been a good distraction for me. Being under her this past month or so kept me out of the streets and clubs. I wasn’t sure how long this would keep my attention, but I damn sure knew I wasn’t trying to let her go.
I sighed, happy as hell to be getting ready to cuddle up with my favorite blanket. But first I’d make her legs shake and spine wobble…maybe mine, too.
