It's Wrong for Me to Love You

by Krystal Armstead

  It’s Wrong for Me to Love You:

  Renaissance Collection

  Krystal Armstead

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1 - The Unexpected

  Chapter 2 - Closer

  Chapter 3 - Getting into Heaven

  Chapter 4 - Gonna Fuck Him

  Chapter 5 - Deeper

  Chapter 6 - Trapped

  Chapter 7 - A Bitch Named Karma

  Chapter 8 - Drink a Little Bit

  Chapter 9 - The After-Party

  Chapter 10 - The Reunion

  Chapter 11 - His Place

  Chapter 12 - The Funeral

  Urban Books, LLC

  300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109

  Farmingdale, NY 11735

  It’s Wrong for Me to Love You: Renaissance Collection

  Copyright © 2017 Krystal Armstead

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-6228-6522-2

  First Trade Paperback Printing August 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.

  Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.

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  Acknowledgments

  Because of my supporters’ love and dedication to me, I have to dedicate this book to them.

  Words cannot express how thankful I am for Racquel Williams and Carl Weber for taking a chance on me. I appreciate the opportunity to work with you and look forward to accomplishing greatness!

  I would also like to take this time to give thanks to the following people who believed in me enough to read my writing before it was even published: Angela Vega, Wendy Palmer, Krystal Brackett, Sara Stephens, Charita Warren, Tanya Felder, Markiesha House-Woodson, Rhomesha Peterson, Danika Glass, Chaynia Dawkins, Coquenia Cooper, Mashawn Anthony, Brittany Derden, Yolanda Henderson, and Jamie Artis. You all took the time to actually read my thoughts. Your belief in me means more than you could ever know. I will always love you all!

  Since I have been a published author, I have met some wonderful people! This wouldn’t even be possible without them: Robin Michelle Watkins, Michelle Neal, Mesha Turner Latrese Washington (that’s my cousin, y’all!), Nicki Ervin, Shonda Midgette, Octavia Carter, Elysia McKnight, Glenda Daniel, Kasey Smith, Shyalice Oates, Monique Franklin, Fallon Hampton, Allison Smith, Latonia Peterson, Natasha West, Monique Gray, and all of my reader homies in my reading group, “Krystal’s Motivation”!

  Thank you to my mother and father, Jennifer and Conrad Artis Jr. We have not always seen eye to eye, but you have always been there to support me. Nothing I can ever do can repay you both for all that you have done for me, but I promise to make you both proud!

  This book is for my four beautiful children, Jada, Adrian, Jordan, and Angel. See, babies, dreams really do come true! This book is also for the missing pieces of my heart, my beautiful three stepdaughters, Jamie, Jasmine, and Anglie. I love you all like you are my own, even if you don’t see it.

  And last but definitely not least, my husband, James. I would not have accomplished this book without you. You are the motivation for every male character in this book! I put characteristics that I love about you in some, and characteristics that I hate about you in others! Without good, bad, happy, and sad times that we shared, I would have never been inspired to tell my story.

  Thank you all for your support. Thank you, God, for the opportunity.

  A’ight, y’all, let’s do this!

  Chapter 1

  The Unexpected

  Ne’Vaeh

  I swear, we do some stupid shit when we’re young and in so-called love. It’s like the part of our brain that contains common sense completely shuts down, and the part of our brain that is completely delusional takes over. Whom can we blame? Our parents, who never took the time to make sure we didn’t make the same mistakes that they did? Our friends, who couldn’t wait for us to fuck up just so they could bask in our misery? The boy who made you love him when he knew that he wasn’t the type of guy you should give your heart to? Or yourself, who should have known better?

  My name is Ne’Vaeh Washington. Juanita Washington gave me that name because she said that when she gave birth to me, her life was the complete opposite of heaven. January 1, 2015, was the worst fuckin’ day of my life. However, it goes back further than that....

  I was a freshman attending Howard University in our nation’s capital. I was a straight-A student, the vice president of the Student Government Association, a member of the National Honor Society, and a soloist of the Gospel choir. I occasionally went out clubbing and drinking, and I may have smoked a blunt or two every now and then. For the most part, I kept my head in the books and didn’t let anything distract me from my goals. I was determined to do something with my life, and I was determined to find love again, wherever it was.

  Though I feared love and shied away from it, I had this burning, physical sensation of desiring it. I guess you can call it hunger. I mean, there was this boy who set my soul on fire every time that he entered the room. I’m telling you, he had me to the point where just one glance at him sent sweat trickling down my back. Just the thought of him made my mouth water. He looked so delectable that I would have done just about anything to get just one taste of him, just to see how he felt in my mouth. That was the way Aaron Whitehaven made me feel. The only problem was . . . He was my best friend’s boyfriend, and I should have known better.

  I only had one good friend. Her name was Charlene Campbell, Charlie for short, and she was the best friend I ever had. She was the total opposite of me. I was a short, petite girl with brown skin and dark, shoulder-length hair. I had a mouthful of breasts and barely a handful of ass, but Charlie? She was about five foot seven, with the perfect Coke-bottle figure, and legs and ass for days. She had long, dark brown hair and a toasted-almond complexion. Her skin always looked as if she’d just had a facial. She barely wore any makeup unless it was lip gloss, which drew attention to her plump, perfect, pouty lips. On her worst day, she looked better than most people looked on their best day. She looked, talked, walked, and even breathed like a model. Everyone wanted to look like her and live the life that she did, me included.

  I’d known Charlie ever since the first grade, and she’d always been the most popular girl in school. I don’t think there was a male athlete that she hadn’t dated, fucked, sucked, kissed, or dismissed. She was my girl, but the way she played the field always bothered me. She never knew when to quit—that was, until Aaron made his debut. . . .

  I’ll never forget . . . It was a Thursday, spring semester of our junior year in high school, 2012. I was sitting next to Charlie, fourth period, in African American History, a class taught by the whitest of white men, Mr. Jimmy Porter. We were in class, laughing at Mr. Porter’s jokes, which were actually funny for a change, when Aaron strolled through the classroom door.

  Charlie grabbed my arm, her light eyes looking in the same direction that every girl in the classroom was looking. “OMG, look at that!” she whispered, digging her American-manicured tips into t
he skin of my forearm.

  My eyes followed him as he strolled his way over to Mr. Porter to hand him a sheet of paper, probably a note from the principal, assigning him to our class. Aaron stood about five foot ten. He had a peanut butter complexion, and dark, wavy, close-cut hair. He was dressed in black and white, from his hat to his Nike shoes. He had the smoothest walk. The brutha had a swag that nobody could deny. I watched as Mr. Porter pointed in my direction, telling Aaron to sit in the chair behind me. My heart pounded in my chest as he looked at me. Our eyes met. I could feel my cheeks turning red. Aaron grinned as he walked toward me.

  I braced myself as he sat down behind me. As he sat, it was as if every female in the class, single or not, turned in their chair to face him, Charlie included.

  Charlie scooted to the edge of her seat and cleared her throat to get his attention.

  Aaron looked at her.

  “I’m Charlene, but everybody calls me Charlie.” She smiled, sticking her chest out even further.

  That’s not all they call you, I thought to myself.

  “What’s up, shorty? I’m Aaron.” His voice was music to my ears.

  “And this is my BFF, Ne’Vaeh—heaven spelled backward.” Charlie threw her pencil at me to get my attention. “Ain’t that the coolest name you’ve ever heard?”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. My heart nearly shot out of my chest. I turned around in my chair to look into his eyes—those gorgeous eyes.

  “Heaven, huh?” Aaron grinned.

  “Your . . . Your eyes are green. . . .” I stuttered, not sure what else to say to someone who had to know how good he looked.

  Charlie giggled. “So,” she looked at Aaron, “what are your plans for tonight?”

  The girl couldn’t wait to get the first taste. She couldn’t wait to sink her fangs into his neck. Two weeks didn’t even go by and the two were already a couple. You wouldn’t see one without the other. I never told her how angry I was with her for stealing his heart before I even had the chance to have a full conversation with him. I never told her that I wanted that boy more than anything.

  They dated for over two years. In high school, they were voted most popular, most attractive, best-looking couple, most athletic, and they were chosen as prince and princess at the junior prom and fuckin’ king and queen at the senior prom. Aaron made the basketball team in no time. Upon graduation, he received an academic and athletic scholarship to the University of Maryland, College Park. Charlie ended up at Morgan State University. I ended up at Howard University. As different as both Charlie’s and my lives were, we tried to remain close. When she wasn’t with Aaron, she was at my dorm in D.C. talking about Aaron.

  As time went by, we spent more time on the phone and less time together. It seemed like the only time she came around sophomore year in college was so I could help her with her homework or study for exams. Her life was dancing, cheering, and Aaron. She was in love, and she wasn’t letting him go. They were the perfect couple, and I was alone. Aaron wanted Charlie, and I wanted him. Damn...

  * * *

  There I sat alone in my dorm on a Friday night, the weekend of homecoming, fall 2014. I was supposed to be at the homecoming game, and I was supposed to attend the dance, being that I was the vice president of the SGA. I just couldn’t bring myself to party that weekend, though. Charlie invited me to attend her homecoming at Morgan State a few weeks earlier, but plans had changed. Charlie’s uncle had passed away that week, so she flew home to Texas where her uncle was going to be buried. She was devastated, and I felt for her. I lost my brother six years earlier, and I swore on my life that I would never attend another funeral.

  Charlie and I had been texting each other on our iPhones that whole day. It was 8:30 p.m., and I sat at my desk typing on my Dell laptop when my cell phone rang.

  I looked over at it and then held it in my hands. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway. “Hello? Ne’Vaeh speaking. . . .”

  “What up, Heaven? What’cha been up to?”

  My heart palpitated in my chest in sync with every syllable uttered through his lips. I couldn’t believe it was Aaron’s voice on the other end. He had never called me before. I could never go on double dates with him, Charlie, and whatever loser they’d try to hook me up with. I couldn’t even look at the boy longer than a few seconds, because my eyes had a tendency to want to undress him. I went speechless for a second or two.

  “Heaven, are you there?”

  “Yeah . . . Yeah, I’m here. . . .” I stuttered.

  “Good, ’cuz I am too. Come downstairs. . . .” He hung up his phone.

  My mouth dropped open as I took the phone from my ear. I just sat there, staring at it. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. I couldn’t believe he’d called. He never called. Up until that point, Aaron and I hadn’t even had a one-on-one-conversation.

  I put the phone down. I was dressed in a black tank top and black boy shorts, so I threw on some sweats, grabbed a hoodie, snatched my keys, and headed out the door. I was so anxious. I couldn’t wait at the elevator, which seemed to be taking longer than normal. I shot down four flights of stairs and out the lobby of my college dorm.

  There stood Aaron, leaned up against the side of the building. He was dressed in his gym clothes—a dark blue hoodie, baggy, dark blue sweatpants, and white Air Force Ones. He stood up from the building as he saw me walking toward him.

  My heart fluttered in my chest as I approached him. I stood before him, arms wrapped around myself. My hair floated in the wind as it flew past us.

  Aaron looked down at me as he licked his lips. “What up, Heaven? What’s good with ya?”

  Ever since the day we met, I don’t think that boy ever called me by name, but I loved it. It was our thing.

  I looked up at him. “You tell me. It’s homecoming weekend. Why aren’t you out with your friends?” I didn’t understand why he’d driven over forty-five minutes to go see someone he hadn’t so much as had a forty-five minute conversation with.

  Aaron just looked at me.

  I looked at him. “Why’d you come here?”

  “You never go out with me and Charlie when we go out. I tried hooking you up with my boy, and you won’t give a nigga a chance. You’re cold, sweetheart.” Aaron shook his head at me.

  I resented that. “I’m cold? No, what’s cold is you and Charlie trying to hook me up with a dude who was like twenty in the eleventh grade, eats with his mouth open, has six baby mamas, and who laughs at his own corny-ass jokes. His breath smelled like sweaty gym socks, and he wouldn’t even supersize my fries when we went to Burger King because he said some lame shit about how he likes his women ‘pretty in the face and slim in the waist’!” I rolled my eyes. “Where did you meet that idiot? Y’all were wrong for that shit.”

  Aaron threw his head back in laughter. “I swear, I didn’t know any of that shit about him! I knew the dude had a few kids, but damn! Well, forget about Trey—what about Keon? He’s a good dude, no kids, no baby-mama drama, and I hear he’s been diggin’ you since y’all were in the eighth grade.”

  I shook my head. “No way. Thank you, but no thank you. I appreciate your concern for my so-called love life, but don’t even bother hooking me up with anybody else, because you apparently have absolutely no taste in men.”

  Aaron grinned. “I guess not. Hey, you can’t be mad at me for tryin’. I just don’t wanna see someone like you alone. . . .”

  I looked up at him. “S . . . Someone like me? What do you mean?”

  He avoided the question. “So, what’cha doin’ tonight? Aren’t you the vice president of SGA? You’re supposed to be at the homecoming. If you’re not gonna go to the homecoming, you should at least kick it with your boy, Aaron. Come kick it with me. . . .”

  I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say to him. I would have given anything two-and-a-half years earlier for him to ask me to hang with him. Just to be in the same room with him. Breathing the same air as him was too deep. I was in lo
ve with that boy, but he wasn’t mine, and it broke my heart. The smarter half of me wanted to walk away, tell him I was working on a fifteen-page paper for my Humanities 101 class. However, the part of my heart that beat for him took over my body. He was Charlie’s boyfriend—my best friend’s boyfriend. That meant that he was off-limits. Untouchable. She was out of town, and he was alone.

  “Why are you here asking me what I’m doing tonight? We never speak. You’ve never called me. You’ve known my number ever since junior year in high school. We never hang out. The only time you talk to me is when you’re trying to hook me up with one of your lame-ass friends. So, I guess you’re lonely tonight, and you needed someone to talk to since your girl’s gone. Is that it? The only reason you came is because she’s gone, right? Admit it.” I had to be honest.

  Aaron licked his delectable lips. “To be honest, yes.”

  He didn’t beat around the bush.

  My mouth dropped open a little. I didn’t expect him to be that honest.

  “What I’m trying to say is . . .” Aaron tried to correct the way his words came out. “There are some things that I need to talk with you about. I never get the chance to talk with you, because I’m not trying to make Charlie upset. We both know that her jealous streak is hell-a-crazy. I don’t wanna come between you and your best friend, but . . .” Aaron took my hand in his, and my heart melted. “We need to talk. So, come for a ride with me.”

  I nearly lost my breath. I quickly slipped my hand from his. He had driven nearly an hour to see me—how could I look into those pretty green eyes and tell him no? “But . . . I’m not dressed. . . .” I whispered, looking down at my outfit.

  Aaron smirked. “Neither am I. I just left the gym with my boys.” His eyes traced my lips. “C’mon. We can just go chill, get something to eat, or we can go kick it over at my crib since my roommate is gone for the weekend. We can do anything you wanna do. We can go anywhere that you wanna go. I just got paid today, so you can chose wherever you wanna go, and I got you. Just come with me . . . please. . . .” Aaron pleaded, taking my hands again, holding both my hands in his.