I glanced around the loft, the dim lighting and artistic décor usually doing the trick to spark my creativity, but tonight, even that wasn’t working. Listening to my hip hop playlist that usually got me hype wasn’t doing shit either, so I switched to some smooth R&B. Get your mind right, man. The sun hadn’t rose yet this morning, so it was still dark outside. I’d always worked better when it was dark, versus light.
Concentrating had never been an issue for me. No matter what was going on in my life, I was always able to remain focused on my art. But that was before she’d popped up. It was before I’d been reminded how badly I had a thing for her. How much of a beautiful distraction she could be for me.
After ten more minutes of struggling through my creativity, I decided to take a step back from my design since my mind was elsewhere.
“Poison Ivy,” I said my nickname for her aloud as I closed my eyes and leaned back into the futon we kept in the corner of the loft. I’d only been resting my eyes for a couple minutes, when I opened them to adjust myself and caught sight of someone in my peripheral.
I popped out my earbuds. “How did you get in here?”
She glanced around, as if expecting me to be up here with someone else. “Sorry,” Ivy said coyly, lingering by the stairs. “Ares let me borrow his key so I could set up a few more things for the scene we are shooting in his office today.”
Shooting was officially starting this morning, and my brother had agreed to let his office be the one for some of the scenes—which, let’s face it, he didn’t mind his shit being in the spotlight.
I noticed she wasn’t wearing her jacket, and was sporting a black tee with the Black Lush logo on it. “How long have you been here?”
“About ten minutes,” she replied. “Your brothers told me you would be here in case I needed anything. I was going to stay out of your way, but I heard you mumbling and moving around. Figured I would let you know I’m here.”
Those sneaky idiots. Smiling, I motioned for her to step farther into the loft. “That’s funny, because those knuckleheads didn’t tell me shit.”
She laughed, and damned if that laugh didn’t sound like my kryptonite … Bashful and sexy intertwined together. “The two of them always did like pranking you.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, and the shit hasn’t changed now that we’re adults.”
“Apparently.” As her laughter died down, she glanced around. “I should probably go and let you get back to sleeping.”
“You don’t have to leave yet. I hit a creative block, so I figured I’d rest my eyes and listen to some music until a spark hit me.”
She scrunched her nose, seemingly trying to decide if she should leave, or hang out with me a little bit. Any other day, I would have told her to stay and not second guessed it. But this morning was different. Lately, she’d been on my mind even more than usual, and it didn’t seem fair to convince her to stay when I had ulterior motives.
She walked over and took a seat next to me on the futon, apparently making up her mind to stay. Placing her iPad on the other side of her, she glanced at my phone and asked, “Is that Spotify? What are you listening to?”
I nodded and passed her the wireless earbud I’d just taken out of my ear. “Oh shit, is this August Alsina? You listen to him? You?”
I laughed. “A little bit, but you sound like you judging a nigga.”
She shook her head. “Not judging, just surprised.” Leaning back, she crossed one leg over the other, her boot that was still on the floor tapping to the beat. “His voice is so pretty.”
“Not the word I would have picked, but he’s decent.”
She rolled her eyes as the next song began to play. “Okay, John Legend. A very solid choice.”
I glanced at her. “You can’t go wrong with Mr. Legend.”
“You can’t.” We settled into a comfortable silence, as a Mary J Blige song played next, both of us stealing glances at one another every now and then. I felt like I was back in high school all over again. Doing whatever I could to get those beautiful brown eyes to look my way, if only for a second.
“This is nice,” she said. “All I’m missing is some popcorn.”
“You still like to eat white and yellow popcorn when you listen to music?”
She tilted her head back. “First off, only the folks back home call three-cheese popcorn, white and yellow. I visited Garrett’s Popcorn the other day and they looked at me sideways. Second, did Layla tell you that?”
I laughed. “Layla would never tell me something that random. Back in high school, you used to spend your free period sitting in the bleachers at the gym snacking on that popcorn from Mr. Martin’s corner store.”
Her eyes widened. “I did, but I didn’t think anyone was paying attention.”
“I was always paying attention.”
She laughed, but it seemed like she was nervous, her voice kinda high when she mentioned, “My friends still tease me about eating cheesy popcorn like I’m watching a movie instead of listening to music. Guess it is a little weird.”
I’d forgotten how much I liked to hear her laugh, and not the kind that sometimes sounded forced when she was talking with the Black Lush staff. The kind that started off on a boastful note before ending in a soft giggle.
When the next song came on, I noticed her fidgeting, so I scooted a little closer to her, so that my arm was touching hers. It was the same way I’d done one night back in Detroit when I’d spotted her all alone outside of one of the art galleries we’d had in town. Back then, I’d noticed she was less fidgety with a little skin on skin contact. I’d overheard her talking to her friend’s once, saying she didn’t like someone crowding her personal space. Funny, she never seemed to mind if I was the one who was close.
“I love the words to this song,” she said, her voice low as she moved a little closer. “I could listen to Daniel Caeser and H.E.R. all day.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “The first time I heard the words to ‘Best Part,’ I listened to them non-stop. Created some of my best work to this song.” I left out the part that this was one of the many songs I listened to when I thought about her. Wondering if she’d thought about me over the years just as much.
“You can feel the angst in his voice,” I pointed out, already slating the song to repeat. “Actually, you can hear it in both of their voices. They see the best parts of one another. The parts that others may not see. They are the best parts of each other’s day. But there are still words left unspoken. Words unheard. Each begging the other to say what’s in their heart, but for some reason, don’t have the courage to say.”
Ivy adjusted her body so that she was facing me on the futon. “Words left unspoken, the same way you waited for me to say more during that time we spent at the art gallery?”
I glanced at her, surprised she was bringing it up. “You remember that night, too?”
“I remember all of it,” she professed, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’d been stood up on that date with James because he was tired of me not putting out and had thought maybe if we went out a few times, I’d change it up for him. Which of course, I wasn’t. While I was sitting outside the gallery, wondering if I should go home or experience the gallery on my own, you popped up. Except for running into you a few times, we hadn’t talked since you’d graduated.”
My mind went back years, to the moment I’d seen her waiting for her date to show up. “You’d looked so beautiful that night. A little disappointed, but still as gorgeous as ever. I remember you were wearing a light green dress and a leather jacket. Your hair was in that half-up half down style you used to wear with one high ponytail, and the back flowing around your shoulders. Back then, you were in your combat boots phase and I remember thinking it was nice to see that your style hadn’t changed.”
She gave me a soft smile, her eyes hinting that she was a little surprised I remembered so much when she told me, “You hadn’t looked the same at all. If anything, you’d looked even more confident. More
driven. More … dangerous.”
“Dangerous? Why, because I had chosen to stay around Detroit instead of going to college?”
She shook her head. “Going to college didn’t matter. I thought it was pretty amazing that you decided to work at that afterschool program full time as the art director to teach them different art techniques and things. They needed that. Needed you.”
I nodded my head. “Thank you for that. Those kids were pretty dope, though. I took art classes at the local college to make sure my skills were on point, but really, every step I took was to lead me closer to opening up my own shop.”
“And you did.” She smiled in a way that made me feel like everything was right in the world because she got me. She understood me. Was proud of me even.
“Then how was I dangerous?”
She bit her bottom lip, the move bringing her sexy girl-next-door look to a whole new level. “No offense, but you were dangerous because you were everything my mom warned me to stay away from. Suddenly, instead of being Mr. Popular, you had tattoos, an edgier haircut. Your muscles seemed more defined. Shoulders were broader. And the way you looked at me was … It was, I don’t know, more unguarded.”
My eyes were solely on hers when I told her, “That’s because I was. The art gallery was my favorite place to go and I’d never seen you there. When you told me you’d been stood up, I took it as an opportunity for us to spend some time together. You’d kept me at arm’s length back in high school, but that night you seemed more open, and I figured, if things had changed, I had to shoot my shot.”
“You sorta shot your shot, but not really.” She studied my eyes. “We had a great time that night. You took me through the entire gallery, showing me different pieces and explaining what the artist had in mind for each one. Then afterwards, we got some ice cream and walked around the neighborhood. Then you took me home and said you’d call.”
“I did call.” I sat up straighter in my seat. “We hung out for a lil’ minute after. The owner of the art gallery even let us use that conference space. I would draw, and you would study for those pre-college entrance exams you were prepping to take that summer.”
“We did.” She glanced away again. “We were together most evenings for like a week. Never saying much, but meeting at the same spot as if we both understood we were exactly where we needed to be.”
I lightly touched her chin and turned her face back toward mine. “Wherever you were was where I always wanted to be.”
She frowned. “Which is why I never understood why you never tried anything more. Why you never even tried to kiss me.”
“You once told me that you didn’t think a man had a right to kiss a woman if they weren’t seriously dating.”
“I was young and didn’t know what I was talking about.”
I shook my head. “You knew what you were talking about. You always had your head on straight, and I wasn’t about to take advantage of that back then. You’d wanted a boyfriend and a relationship like the ones you used to read about in those romance books and I was far from that shit. Still am. I’m no Prince Charming.”
“I never wanted Prince Charming.”
I smirked. “You did, and every dude that liked you knew that you did.”
She bit her lip again, seemingly lost in thought. “Back then, all my rules made sense. But I’m beginning to think I missed out on some good experiences because of my rules. I’m an adult now, and I know more about what I want. What I need. So, I have to ask …” She looked down at my lips. “If you wanted to kiss me back then and never did. If you wanted our kiss to last longer the other day, but it didn’t. What’s stopping you from kissing me now?”
I wasn’t sure if her voice had gotten throatier or if it was a figment of my imagination, but I didn’t have to be asked twice. I lowered my head, her lashes fluttering closed the moment my lips touched hers. Damn. I’d waited a long ass time to kiss Ivy. Like really kiss her. And she tasted even better than I’d imagined. Sweet and delicious. Innocent with a hint of sass. Eager, yet reserved. Every part of my brain had to remind me to take it slow, let her control the kiss. But all that went out the window when she lifted herself off the futon and straddled me, lightly gripping my head to keep my lips planted on hers.
Fuck. While one of my hands grazed her back, the other cupped her ass, bringing her closer to me as she began to gently rock her body. Slowly, I started to take control, kissing her in a way I’d dreamed about for over a decade. Kissing her with the sexual frustration I’d kept bottled up inside and never released since no one was Ivy. None of my exes had even held a candle to the type of way I’d felt about her.
“Oh shit,” she whispered in between kisses. “I need more.”
I smiled against her lips, wondering if she had any idea what it meant to give a green light to a nigga like me. A man who’d been feigning for her sexy ass for far too long to hold back when she was asking for more.
I lifted her tee over her head, revealing a black cotton bra with a small white bow in the middle. Simple, yet perfect. To me, everything about Ivy was perfect, and as corny as that sounded, it was the truth. My truth. A truth that I’d gotten used to the day I accepted that she’d always be my poison.
My lips trailed a path from her neck to the top of her breasts, each kiss causing her to moan louder than the kiss before. Sliding her bra straps down her arms, I freed her breasts, popping one of her perky nipples into my mouth, loving the way it got harder with the twirl of my tongue.
I wanted to rid us of our clothes. Needed to feel her naked skin against mine. She was just as eager. I could feel it in the way she kissed me. The way she dry-humped me. I was moments away from switching our positions and sliding her under me when I heard knocking at the front door of the shop.
Ivy pulled away first. “Crap.”
I shook my head. “Ignore that shit. Whoever it is will go away.”
“I wish we could ignore them.” She pulled her bra straps back up and picked her discarded shirt off the floor. “I told a couple members of my production team to come early, so I bet that’s them now.”
“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair, even more sexually frustrated than before we kissed.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” she mumbled, putting back on her shirt. “This was a mistake. I have the experiment to think about. And we have too much history.”
“What are you talking about?”
Closing her eyes, she frantically shook her head. “Nothing. I’m not talking about anything.”
I squinted my eyes, not believing her. “You really think this was a mistake?” Call me cocky, but typically when women asked me to kiss them, they didn’t regret a damn thing after.
“You wouldn’t understand.” The knocking at the door continued. “I got to get to work, so how about we talk about it later?”
She didn’t give me a chance to say anything else, and was down the stairs, letting her team in before I could catch my breath.
Damn. That shit went south real quick. I laid down on the futon to take a few more minutes to myself and landed on her iPad, knocking it on the floor when I sat back up. When I picked it up, I touched the home button—assuming it was locked, but just wanting to make sure the screen wasn’t cracked—when surprisingly, it unlocked.
I gotta tell her to always password protect her stuff. I wasn’t one of those dudes who went through people’s stuff, but I’d dated my share of crazy women. So I always locked up my shit.
I would have ignored what was on Ivy’s iPad the minute the screen lit up, if Rules for a No-Strings-Attached Relationship wasn’t headlined on her document. I told myself not to scroll any farther, but words like social experiment and YouTube stood out to me. Along with the words casual sex, recording, video, and two weeks.
“Man, what the hell is this?” And what the hell was she recording? Ivy Ashwood didn’t even like being in the spotlight and she was the complete opposite of a casual hook-up.
“And who the fuck
is Gary?” His name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place him. She’d had his name on here a few times, but what really stood out to me was the bottom of the document that had his name circled a couple times, while my name was crossed out.
Everything became clearer, when I spotted the name of the YouTube channel, The Social Experiment Network. Damn, Ivy must be participating in the next season I saw advertised. I wasn’t much for reality television, but I’d seen a couple seasons of the show when Ares got into that shit.
So Ivy is entering a no-strings-attached relationship with some lame named Gary? Nah, the shit wasn’t sitting well with me. Especially after the kiss we’d just had. We both had a lot of our plates this morning, but as soon as I caught her ass alone, I was getting to the bottom of this.
Chapter 7
“Stop studying for a test you’ve already passed. You don’t need a driver’s license to ride a dick.”
~ Layla ~
IVY
My mind had been a nervous wreck all day. As far as the first day of shooting, it was going decent. But that kiss I’d had with Theseus was still on my mind. And to top it off, I’d left my iPad up there with him and hadn’t noticed it was missing until an hour later when he’d handed it to me displaying a sneaky smirk on his face.
I didn’t know if he’d seen the document I’d been working on or not, but my gut was telling me that he had and he’d read enough to know that I was doing a social experiment. Already today, I’d received a message from Tyler, stating that my intro video was good, but I needed to find a candidate and get to the nitty gritty of my experiment. As if that’s so freakin’ easy.
“You did great with the talent,” Monroe, my producer, told me as she sized up our leading stars. Monroe and I had both began working for Black Lush at the same time and got close almost immediately. Even managed to get our promotions weeks apart.
Bad Decisions Good Regrets (Social Experiment #2) Page 6
