Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do

by Shvonne Latrice

  “How are you and Ian?” I quizzed Nichole.

  I hadn’t seen her flaunt any new expensive things on social media, which gave me the impression that they’d died out. Yes, Nichole had her own money, Instagram was her job, but not NFL player money.

  “We’re good. He’s flying me to Houston.” She beamed. “He has a game coming up; you should come with me.”

  “I will see what I can do. Can I bring Priscilla?”

  “Girl, I don’t care. Can she even go that far?” Nichole frowned as Izzy laughed.

  Lately, Priscilla always had an excuse as to why she couldn’t go anywhere. I didn’t know if I’d rubbed her the wrong way, or if it was Rafi behind it, but I didn’t like it. I enjoyed her company and most times hated having to take Nichole somewhere.

  “I hope so.”

  For the next couple hours, we enjoyed dinner, and I forgot how much I missed Izzy. Lately, my agent had been booking me on countless auditions, and in combination with this new role I’d gotten, and my manager still getting me other gigs, I didn’t have as much time to stop by and see her. Plus, I was spending a lot of time with Belly, which was kind of new for me.

  Yes, with my last boyfriends, we definitely hung out a lot, but I was spending almost every night next to Belly, which never was the case with my exes. I maybe spent the night two or three times max.

  It was obvious that I liked him a lot more than anybody else I’d dated. I would even go as far as to say more than Five-Star, and I was a dumb in love with that nigga from day one seemingly.

  Belly and I had been doing our thing for a few months now, and I already felt how I felt with Five-Star when we’d been together for longer. It was just something about Belly, how charming he was yet rude. I hated asshole guys usually, but in him, I found it attractive. And he was hood, but not the fake kind, the genuine type. Lastly, but not least, the dick was unbelievable. It was so good that I’d contemplated on several occasions, cutting him off.

  “Don’t forget to invite me, Blaise!” Izzy called out as she hopped into the passenger seat of Nichole’s Mercedes.

  “I won’t, babe!” I gave her a finger wave then hit the key fob to my fully decked out Infiniti truck.

  I sat in my car just thinking for a little bit, then once I had the heat going, I took my ass home to be with my Island. Of course Belly called me though, and we ended up falling asleep on the phone. It seemed like no matter what, I couldn’t let him go… I wouldn’t.

  That weekend…

  This evening was a viewing party for the commercial I did for that vodka brand a little bit ago. I’d never been to a viewing party where I was the ‘star’, so I was a bit nervous. I was happy that Belly agreed to accompany me, and even though I wanted to keep our relationship on the low, I didn’t want to bring anyone else. Plus, the event was pretty exclusive.

  Since the liquor brand was created by a former rapper who was big in the ’90s, a lot of people in the entertainment industry were attending. He was one of the few rappers from that time that went on to make a lot of money via other avenues such as a record label, a clothing line, and now this vodka. I knew he hit me up for the commercial because of my looks, but I didn’t care; work was work, and a check was a check.

  “Shit is legit as fuck,” Belly commented as soon as he drove by the venue to go park in the lot next to it.

  There were people outside, posing on a red carpet and getting their pictures taken. I saw a few celebrities I recognized already.

  “It is.”

  “I better nut in you tonight so I can trap you before you blow the fuck up on a nigga,” he said. “Try to leave me or some shit, and I’ll have to fuck you up.”

  “Shut up, Cortez.” I chuckled softly as he threw his Range Rover in park. “I won’t ever leave you.” I reached over to grip his chin softly, so he leaned over to kiss me. “You clean up well, Mr. Khalil.”

  He wasn’t in a suit or anything because it wasn’t that type of event, but he looked so good. He smelled even better in that Chanel cologne.

  “I know.”

  I rolled my eyes at his cocky ass, then waited for him to come around and open the door for me. He couldn’t help but to grab a handful of my ass and kiss on my neck as I got out of the car.

  “Baby, we can’t walk up like this!” I screeched with laughter as he hugged my body from behind while we walked. I felt his dick on my ass.

  “Why the fuck we can’t? Let somebody say some shit to me.”

  Lord, please don’t let anyone come at us.

  As soon as we walked up, the photographers went crazy with the photos. Belly released me from his embrace so we could stand next to one another and take pictures.

  “Are you two dating?” one man called out with his camera covering half of his face.

  “Why you worried about where another nigga is sticking his dick, bruh?” Belly inquired, shocking me, so I just started pulling him toward the entrance of the event.

  I slipped my hand into his large one as I snickered lowly, entering through the double doors. The place was packed with people, mostly celebrities, and a sprinkle of people I didn’t recognize, mainly the arm candy of some of the famous men.

  I began greeting people I knew and ones that came up to me. I appreciated the fact that although Belly was well known, he stayed back to keep the attention on me. He only spoke a tiny bit, no matter how badly some of these people wanted to converse with The Hood’s Champ.

  “Baby, you’re as famous as some of these millionaire boxers. You should be making that much,” I said as we sat in our reserved section with some drinks the hostess brought us.

  “I know, but in boxing, the fame kind of has to come first, then that’s how you get the money. The more muthafuckas that wanna see you fight and have interest in you, the more money you start to get. I’m on my way, don’t worry.” He kissed my shoulder.

  “I don’t mind. And I like that you’re honest about it. I see a lot of your peers flossing on Instagram like they’re rich, showing off jewelry and everything.”

  “Yeah, a lot of them niggas rent that shit. I got a few nice pieces, but a nigga saved up and paid for that shit.”

  “Like my bracelet?” I smiled up at him, admiring his thick full lips and toasted brown skin.

  “Yeah, I contemplated for a week straight on if yo’ ass was worth over six bands.” He craned his neck to kiss my lips.

  “What was the deciding factor?”

  “The night before I bought it, I almost nutted in you in under five minutes.”

  “Cortez, seriously? That’s what made you buy it?” I was waiting for him to say he was joking, but that hadn’t come yet.

  “Hell yeah. I already liked you, but I’ve liked a lot of females. However, pussy that good is worth some bread, baby.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  He pecked the corner of my mouth a couple times, while caressing my exposed thigh, and of course, in only a few seconds, I was smiling.

  “I’m going to take a piss. Come with me.”

  “Cortez, no, I may have to give my speech.”

  He stared down at me for a moment then replied, “Aight. Otherwise, don’t move. I ain’t comfortable with you working the room while I’m gone.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as he walked off, I dug into my Chanel clutch to retrieve my glossy lipstick to touch up my lips. As I fluffed my wavy hair a little bit, I noticed a figure standing by my section. Slowly looking up, I spotted Merlin, holding flowers for me and a box.

  “Blaise, one thing people can’t say is that you ain’t beautiful as hell.” He shook his head, admiring me.

  “Thank you. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m good friends with Peace,” he responded, referring to the owner of the liquor brand.

  “Oh, okay. Well, nice seeing you.”

  “Damn, I can’t chop it up with you for a minute?” He sat next to me. “Here.” He handed me the flowers, so I sniffed them to be nice then set the
m on the table next to my champagne glass. “This too.” It was the familiar burgundy Cartier box.

  “Merlin, no.” I pushed it back toward him.

  “You know you like gifts.”

  “I do, but it’s inappropriate for me to accept gifts from another man.”

  “Another man?” He frowned, tilting his head a tiny bit. “So them rumors on the blogs are true? You fuck with Belly?”

  “I do.”

  “Wow. You can do better, Blaise. You’re too beautiful and smart to be willingly getting played. I’m starting to think you’re attracted to niggas who wanna fuck you over. First Five-Star, now him. You ain’t want me because I was doing right. I pray to God you don’t let him knock you up too.”

  “Nobody is getting knocked up. Merlin, I’m not in the mood to—”

  “See, I didn’t come over here all aggressive and shit because I assumed you was chilling and talking to one of yo’ dike looking ass homegirls.” Belly appeared, looking mean and sexy as ever as he stared down at Merlin. I wanted to laugh at him calling Merlin a dike, but I was a bit afraid.

  “Baby, he was leaving.”

  “Yeah, I know he is. And take them cheap ass flowers, nigga.”

  Merlin rose up, chuckling and shaking his head. Belly watched him the entire time, hands clasped at the crotch of his dark jeans.

  “Blaise, keep the flowers.”

  “Nah, she ain’t keeping shit.” Belly picked them up and tossed them right into Merlin’s face, slapping the shit out of him a bit.

  Thankfully the party was packed and live, so not too many people were tuning in. There were a few though.

  “Let me guess, angry man, you gon’ punch me now?”

  “Nah, not yet. But as soon as them baby ass teeth in ya mouth mature a little bit, I’ll be knocking them muthafuckas down ya throat.”

  Me, as well as the few people listening in, started to laugh. I kept my mouth agape to suppress mine, but it didn’t work well. I’d never paid much attention to how small Merlin’s teeth were, but now I kept staring up at him to get another look.

  Embarrassed, Merlin attempted to snicker it off, before prancing out of my section without another word.

  “Baby, you’re so mean.”

  “If this wasn’t your event, I would have beat his ass. Next time I see him out, it’s a wrap.”

  Inhaling sharply, I just prayed the rest of the night went smoothly. God thankfully answered my prayers.

  Alivia Farms

  Same party… different angle…

  After Blaise Cansino gave her speech, we watched the commercial, then it was party time. I was the deejay for the night, so I was happy when that hour came around. Having to spin more mellow songs half the night was driving me insane, so now that I could play all the turn up tracks, I was hype.

  The party lasted for about another three hours, before everybody started filing out with their gift bags.

  Mom: On your way yet? It’s 1:30am.

  Me: Soon ma, okay? I promise.

  Rolling my eyes, I pocketed my iPhone and started back packing up my equipment. I heard footsteps, and when I looked up, it was Peace’s manager, smiling and holding an envelope.

  “For you, Alivia.”

  Opening it to check the amount, I made sure it was for the $2,000 we agreed on and then thanked him. I had to hurry up and get the hell out of here because I didn’t want to hear my parents’ mouths.

  About thirty minutes later, I had all of my things loaded into my car and noticed there was a decked out Range Rover still in the lot. I stared as I shut my trunk, and saw there were two figures in it, moving. Once I realized they were fucking, I quickly turned away, but then my eyes were right back on them as I slipped into my car. The windows were tinted, but the shadows told everything.

  I couldn’t look away, and I guess it was because I wished I could experience things of that nature, but with the type of family I had, it would never happen.

  I ended up waiting until they were done like a true voyeur, and when the girl climbed out of the back seat, fixing her dress, I realized it was Blaise.

  She and I were total opposites. The only thing we had in common was the fact that we worked in the same industry somewhat. I was sheltered, rarely ever dated, and was behind the scenes a lot. Blaise, on the other hand, seemed to always be out doing something, caught the most successful men, and stayed on the blogs even though you could tell she tried to stay off of them.

  “Oh shit,” I mumbled when she and I made eye contact. I’d never met her before, but I did follow her, along with her friends Nichole and Priscilla, because I lived vicariously through them.

  I quickly cranked my car up and sped out of the parking lot toward my home. I stopped at Jack In The Box on the way because I was in the mood for an Oreo cookie milkshake.

  “It’s past 2:30 a.m., Alivia,” my dad greeted me as soon as I walked into the house. He was seated on the long couch with his crusty feet propped up.

  Yes, I lived with my parents still. I was twenty-three years old, and I made good money as a disc jockey, working some of the hottest parties and a few clubs around Los Angeles, so I had the coins for my own place. However, my parents felt I should only move out once I got married. As a teenager, I was okay with it, because I thought by the time I got to the age I was now, I’d have a husband. But it was hard trying to date with such overbearing ass parents.

  Every time I even met a guy that I was even remotely interested in, my parents either hated him, or he eventually couldn’t deal with my prison-like life.

  “I know, Dad, but the party ended at 1 a.m., and I had to pack up my equipment alone.”

  “I think maybe you should go back to doing daytime jobs only.”

  “No, those aren’t as popular. I need these nighttime gigs to keep my bank account afloat.”

  I used to only do day clubs and events, but those were so rare that I wasn’t making enough cash. I would have to charge insane prices sometimes, just to hit my monthly cash goal, and a lot of times, people passed on me. I wasn’t interested in doing weddings and bar mitzvahs. I wanted to do clubs and eventually some mixtapes too.

  “Well, figure how you can leave earlier or keep in contact constantly while you’re working.”

  “Will do, Dad.” I walked over to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight.”

  I tread up the stairs and to my parents’ bedroom to tell my mama goodnight as well, then I went to take a shower before dozing off. I had another job tomorrow, so I needed to be well rested.

  Shawty seen my wrist, said it look like pineapple… Shawty super thick, bet she taste like pineapple…

  I was currently spinning “Pineapple” by Ty Dolla $ign over this big ass club in Hollywood. It was a grand opening, and I couldn’t believe they wanted me to be the first to play music here. It was packed too, because that boxer, Cortez Khalil aka Belly, and some Instagram hoe named Haylee were in the building.

  As Quavo rapped his verse on the song, I noticed some caramel-skinned guy with a baldhead and long beard coming my way. The security for my deejay booth dapped him up, so he must have been someone. As I got another look, I recognized him from somewhere, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.

  “What’s up, pretty girl?” He leaned on the side of my booth, cheesing hard. I could tell he thought he was sexy. He was, but his demeanor was a turn off.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I was wondering if uh…” He looked me up and down salaciously before licking his lips. Was he trying to seduce me? If so, it wasn’t working in the slightest. “…you could maybe play a track by request.”

  “What track is that? I may have it on my list already.”

  “I doubt it. Pretty girls usually don’t have good taste in music. And as fine is you are, you probably only listen to country.”

  “Have you heard any country music tonight? No, so what are you even talking about?” I frowned. He was incredibly stupid. It was clear he’d only gotten through life using his looks. Had he been ugl
y, his mama would have definitely done better swallowing him.

  I realized I’d been letting this song play too long, so I quickly switched it.

  “You right. I thought maybe ya boyfriend put this together for you.” He pointed to my laptop screen.

  “Okay, you can go now.”

  “Aight, aight. My bad.” He looked me up and down again, this time nibbling on his lip. Ew. “I wanna hear ‘Drop’ by G-Eazy.”

  “That’s coming up later. Have a goodnight, and wait for it to play, but back wherever you came from.”

  “Damn you’re feisty. I’m Manny.”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  Just as I said that, I remembered he was a cornerman for Cortez Khalil and also his brother. Manny was more of a hype man though, always yelling out shit to the audience during Cortez’s matches. I didn’t know why I didn’t recognize this big fool immediately.

  “Well, Alivia, in case you ever wanna chill sometimes, you should hit me up.” He handed me his card. I almost asked how he knew my name, but it was all over my stuff and on the promotional flyers.

  “You’re not necessarily my type of man, so I’m going to have to pass on your offer, but, thank you.”

  “How you know I’m not your type? I’m everyone’s type.” He stepped back some so I could get a better look at him.

  I tried to be serious, but I couldn’t help but to laugh at his ass. And the look on his face told me he didn’t like the fact that I found him comical.

  “I’m so sorry, but you are ridiculous. And I need you to leave so I can do my job.”

  “Aight. If you give me your number, I will leave.”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m gon’ stay right here and bother you. I think you like having me around anyway.”

  “Fine! Hurry up and write it down.”

  As soon as he texted or called me, I’d block his ass, so I decided to just give in and hope I never saw him again.

  “I’ll be texting you.”

  I nodded with a fake smile, then adjusted my headphones so I could focus. For the rest of the night, I kept feeling Manny stare me down thirstily from their section. There were plenty of women over there, yet he felt the need to have his eyes on me. It made me a bit uncomfortable because I didn’t like him at all. Plus, I could tell once he saw how on lockdown I was, he’d lose interest anyway.