by Tracy Gray
My father laughed out loud at that. Then he spent several seconds that felt like hours, quietly moving his piercing gaze between Maddox and me. “Busy, I’ve always liked you.”
I practically choked on my soft-shelled taco. Since when did Bryan Goode like any guy that he wasn’t related to by blood?
My father continued. “I’ve admired your self-discipline since you were a kid. My daughter thinks you’re ‘funny acting’, but I know better. I know it wasn’t easy ignoring my daughters and nieces - day after day, year after year. There are a lot of them, and they’re all beautiful. I was a teenage dude once, I know the types of thoughts that run through the minds of pubescent boys. But you didn’t shit where you ate, and that was impressive. I told your grandmother once, that with that kind of self-control, there was no way you weren’t gonna make it to the pros.
I can’t say that I’m surprised that if Bo was doing the picking, she would pick MeMe to play the part. Bo and your grandmother have been shoving you down Meme’s throat for at least the last six, seven years.”
Trust my father to always keep it a buck. No discretion whatsoever.
“I understand why they thought they could match-make y’all, though. You and MeMe are a lot alike. The focus. The drive. The self-control. She’s a dancer, self-discipline is her life. You’re an athlete, same exact story. Either one of you let your self-discipline slip…your career’s in jeopardy. You know that first hand, Busy, you’re living it right now.
The thing you gotta know about Mecca is that she’s loyal, and genuine. She’ll stand by your side, ten toes down. But her patience for fuckboy antics is low. She’s the type that will back up your bullshit in a crowd, but when you get to the car...she’ll fuck you up about that same bullshit. I encourage you to stay on her good side and leave any fuckboy behavior at the door.
As her father, I can’t help but notice that this whole deal seems incredibly one-sided. I mean, you get a trophy ‘girlfriend’,” My dad shot me a wink. “And the opportunity to repair the damage to your rep, what is Mecca getting out of this?”
“I’m just doing it as a favor to Auntie Bo.”
“Treat my daughter with respect, man. While she’s playing this role, do your part. Leave the other chicks alone. No pictures, no videos, I don’t even want whispers of you with other chicks. Like zero, man. I don’t want my daughter embarrassed or made to look like a fool. I don’t want your ‘challenged’ reputation traded for hers. I don’t want her dragged on social media while you sit back quietly looking out for yourself. This is a favor, it should be treated with the appreciation that comes from knowing that she didn’t have to do this for you. She could’ve let you figure something else out, or blow in the damn wind.”
“I’ve already told Mecca, if the bullets start blowing, I’ll take that heat.”
“Well, I guess if bullets start blowing, we’ll see, won’t we?”
Maddox nodded his head.
“Busy, as I’ve said before, I’ve always liked you, but that shit is totally inconsequential if you bring bullshit to Mecca’s doorstep. Please. Please. Don’t make me fuck you up over my daughter.”
Maddox was quiet when we left my parents’ house. I wasn’t sure if it was because my father was so...himself or what. Still, when we pulled up in front of Joya’s place, I turned my body to face him.
“So, pulling this thing off in front of my cousins.”
His eyes met mine. “You seem more worried than you were at your spot. You got any suggestions?”
“I don’t know. I would say just be yourself, but since ‘yourself’ would typically ignore me...can’t do that.” I joked.
He smirked. “I think the stage of me being able to ignore you has passed. Think I’ll be myself.”
“Good luck with that.”
As I moved to get out of his truck, he grabbed me by my wrist. I turned around and gave him my attention.
“So, when I’m being myself, are you gonna roll with it?”
Busy was a double-whammy - that deadly combination of being flirty and understanding exactly how sexy and desirable he was. My mind (or maybe it was my vagina) started thinking all kinds of thoughts with that question. “I don’t know. You’re not gonna be backing me up against any walls, and kissing me in the mouth are you?”
His eyes raked over me, and he licked his kissable lips. Those juicy, kissable ass lips. “Maybe. Is that what you like? Being backed up against walls, Mecca?”
The way he looked at me, the way his big, strong hand held my wrist with restrained power, the way his pink tongue traveled over his brown lips so slowly, made me fluttery in the stomach.
“I like a lot of things.” I told him.
“I’mma need you to keep that same energy when I’m pressed up against you in front of your cousins.”
Inwardly, I was a tiny bit shook, because if I wasn’t mistaken, he had just promised that there would be moments where his big, sexy, muscular body would be pressed up against mine. Can’t lie, I definitely hoped that there would be ‘backing me up against walls’ involved. Outwardly, I did my best to appear unbothered, though. “And you just make sure that if you’re backing me up against walls, that you’re ready for what comes next.” I pulled my wrist from his grasp and turned away from him humming Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts.”
Nasir Payne, Joya’s husband answered the door for us holding the couple’s youngest daughter, two-year-old Lyric.
He grinned when he saw me, his handsome face lighting up. “What’s good, Mecca?” He pulled me into a one-armed hug, releasing me slowly when he noticed Maddox standing behind and off to the side of me. “Mayday Mayhew?” He asked in surprise, calling Maddox by yet another nickname.
Maddox stepped up, with his hand outstretched. “Ay, what’s up? Nasir Payne, right?”
Nasir nodded, his face still scrunched up in shock. He took Maddox’s hand, and gave him the universal “black man” handshake. “Yeah. Come on in. Come on in.”
Nasir and Joya were young and wealthy and their lifestyle reflected that. They lived in one of the most expensive and coveted neighborhoods in Chicago. Lincoln Park was about a mile from downtown, and right on the lakefront. It was within walking distance of parks, shopping, restaurants, the zoo, the botanical gardens and museums. Their house was on a quiet, tree-lined, family friendly block and was simply gorgeous. It was a semi-open floor plan with exposed brick walls, and historical details. Classic, but modern.
We stepped into the foyer, and Nasir led us through the living room, the dining room, past the kitchen and the large family room out to the spacious deck on the back of the house. There were people everywhere, but I spotted my family members right away. Joya, sitting in the flyest one-person porch swing I had ever seen, cradling her four year old daughter, Honor in her lap. Clarke, Cairo and Nasir’s youngest sister, Torri were at the bar. My cousin Indigo and her guy, Northern McKinley were on the loveseat. British, and two of my other cousins were chilling on the sofa.
I walked over to Joya with Maddox on my heels. “Oh my goodness, big baller. Where the hell did you get this swing chair, porch-swing-for-one, whatever you call it? It’s so nice.”
Her light brown eyes went really wide as she moved the antsy toddler out of her lap. “Pretty sure I got it from Wayfair. Where did you get your...guest? Hey Busy Mayhew. Long time no see.”
“What’s good, Joya? Congratulations. Five years.”
“Thank you. What brings you to my humble abode?”
“I was invited, and since I spent so many years showing the Watson girls unnecessary and undeserved shade, and I knew you would all be here, it felt like the perfect opportunity to offer one, big collective apology.”
Immediately the deck got quiet as hell. In the words of my Aunt Bo, you could’ve heard a mouse pissing on cotton.
“So, let’s hear it.” Prompted Clarke. “And it better be good. I mean, we’ve waited long enough for it.”
“Right.” Indigo agreed.
“I apologi
ze for the way I acted when we were growing up. You all were always cordial and friendly, and instead of returning that energy, I was…”
“Rude as fuck?” Clarke supplied.
“Aloof?” Joya tossed out.
“Obnoxious?” British chimed.
“Arrogant as hell?” My cousin River asked.
“Distant?” Kyndall questioned.
“Well, fuck.” Nasir said loudly. “What the hell was going on over on 72nd and Paxton back in the day? Next door neighbors was sworn enemies and shit?”
“Basically.” I mumbled.
“I won’t say we were enemies, but Maddox Mayhew definitely wasn’t checking for my cousins.” Joya told her husband.
“No, he wasn’t.” Clarke agreed, giving him the evil-eye. “He barely spoke to us. Any time he was forced by his grandmother to be in the same room with us, he spent all of his damn time looking over our heads. I don’t know what the hell was on the ceiling, but it was obviously more interesting than us. I’m surprised he can recognize us or tell us apart from each other. He never looked at us.”
That was when Northern McKinley stood up and walked over to Maddox. He extended his hand, with a smirk on his handsome face.
“What’s up, dude? I’m Northern, nice to meet you.” Northern leaned in close and said something that was only meant for Maddox’s ears.
Maddox laughed out loud, nodded, then shook Northern’s hand. “Good to meet you, too, Northern.” Then he gave his attention back to the Watson women. “You’re right, Clarke. You’re right. And I apologize. I was young, and dumb. And as Mecca has since pointed out to me, there were so many other ways I could’ve handled that. I chose the wrong one. I fucked up. Please forgive me.”
I took that as my cue, moved closer to Maddox and put my hand inside of his, giving it a squeeze.
“Uhm, looks like somebody already forgave you.” British commented.
“Thankfully.” He pulled me into his side, hugging my body to his. I looked up at him, not even trying to do it “adoringly” or whatever the hell Sydnie Whitmore suggested, but when he looked down at me and our eyes met, something moved in me. Like, I felt like maybe he meant it when he said he was thankful that I forgave him.
“Nah, Mecca just finally figured out what it was all along.” Cairo said from where he was chilling at the bar. “That Busy couldn’t afford to pay attention to y’all, because you’re distractions.”
“Gorgeous, distractions.” Northern added.
“Distractions who would’ve fucked up his head, when he needed to keep his head in the game.” A dude that I didn’t even recognize said.
“Dudes. They don’t even know him, and they’re jumping in to take up for him, about why he showed us so much shade back in the early 2000s.” Clarke sucked her teeth.
“But we’re men, Clarke. So, when he’s trying to talk around it, so you won’t start to feel a way, we understand what he’s not saying.” Nasir explained.
“I understand what he’s not saying, Nasir. He couldn’t get caught up in romancing one or two or all of us, because first of all, Miss Vera would’ve put her foot up his ass. Secondly, how was he supposed to choose? I mean, we’re all fucking show-stopping.”
That comment received catcalls, and shouts of agreement from every corner of the deck, including from me.
“And third of all; that would’ve made things mad awkward if there was a bad break-up or a teenage pregnancy or something, since we were neighbors. We get it. We could’ve gotten it when we were in high school. The thing is, instead of just keeping it a buck, he…”
“Ugghhhh.” I said, holding up my free hand, the one that wasn’t encased in Maddox’s massive paw. “Can we let it go? What’s done is done. It’s the past. Busy messed up.” I cut my eyes at him. “I think he gets it. You’re not about to keep riding his ass about it, Clarke.”
She eyed me. “Why? Is it your turn to ride his ass, Mecca?”
Again, catcalls and shouts came from every corner of the room. But this is what we did. This was what it looked like when the Watson girls got together.
“Not this very second.” I said, once the chatter had died down. “But maybe when we leave here. Meanwhile, get off my man.”
“Your man?” That was my cousin, Reign.
“I said what I said.” I assured her, as British caught my eye and gave me an almost imperceptible nod. I looked up at Maddox, who was surprisingly, looking down at me. “Let’s get food.”
He followed me into the kitchen. There were people in there, so we couldn’t talk, and I really wanted to talk to him. I quickly fixed him a plate containing everything he pointed at, then threw about two things on a plate to call my own. I led him to a semi-hidden alcove under the stairs, that the Payne family clearly used as a mud-room area. I sat down on the built-in bench, that doubled as a place for the family to store shoes and boots and such.
“How do you feel?”
He looked over at me in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, with Clarke coming for you.”
“Pssshhhtttt.” He was dismissive. “You do know that I’m familiar with Clarke, right? Actually, I’m kinda more concerned with them coming for you.”
“For me? My cousins? Nah, that’s not gonna happen. Yeah, they’re gonna tease me about you, then act like they’re jealous that after all of these years, I was the one to finally pull you, but they’re not gonna like, come for me for real or nothing.” I paused. “They love me.”
“I knew you would drag Busy over here to hide from the crowd.” British said dipping into the alcove to join us.
I shrugged my shoulders as I took a tiny bite of potato salad.
“You okay?” She asked gently. “Clarke’s ass.”
“No, I expected that.” I admitted. “Especially from Clarke.”
“What about you, Busy? You get what you expected?” She smirked.
“Actually, I got less than I expected. I expected to be roasted all night.”
“With Mecca standing there?” She rolled her eyes. “No way that was happening. If you wanna pull this thing off, especially in front of my family, you need to learn your girl.”
“You the tough guy in the family, Pudding?”
I looked over at him. Apparently, teasing me tickled him, because he was grinning and showing me the dimples that caused panties to moisten from coast to coast.
“I thought that was Clarke.” He continued, before I could answer the original question.
“Clarke is the toughest talker, but when it comes to fisticuffs, it’s Joya and Reign that bring that heat.” British cut her eyes at me. “And Pudding. Trust me, your girl is nice with her hands. Plus, she got that mama bear thing happening. You know, from always having to take up for me, Clarke, Indigo, River and Reign growing up.”
“You a street brawler?” He asked, biting into his brisket sandwich. I didn’t get how he could possibly still be hungry after slamming like, at least 10 tacos at my parents’ house, but he was eating again.
“I’m a boxer. Took it up to help build strength. Dancers tend to have extremely strong legs, I wanted to have...good arms.”
“Sexy arms.” British corrected. “Tell the truth, and shame the devil. After she saw some old school movie with Angela Bassett playing some chick named Tina something…”
“Tina Turner?” Maddox couldn’t stop laughing. “How old are you, British?”
“Leave me alone, Busy.”
“She’s 25. That’s why her age is showing.” I said.
“Anyway, your girl wanted sexy arms like that.” She continued.
“Let me see.” Maddox told me.
I flexed my bicep, then turned my arm and straightened it, so that he could see my tricep.
He whistled appreciatively, then reached out and gingerly ran his hand along the skin of my arm. I tried not to shiver.
”Damn, looks good, Mecca. You got definition like a motherfucker.”
“So, are y’all still pretending to be i
nvolved? Cuz Busy is looking like he wants to pounce on you, MeMe.”
I sighed heavily at her comment. What I didn’t want or need was British watching us and judging our behavior. We needed space to figure out how to “be” with each other. I stood up from where I was sitting. “We should go back to the deck before somebody else comes looking for us.”
Maddox stood up, and the three of us started for the deck.
“What took you so long to get here?” British asked, as the three of us rejoined the rest of the guests.
“We went out to Winnetka.” I told her.
I said it in my usual tone, but you would’ve thought I yelled it with the way that all of the other conversations on the deck seemed to die on people’s lips.
“What?” I asked the group.
“You took Busy out to Winnetka?” Indigo looked horrified, she knew exactly what was in Winnetka. “Why?”
I couldn’t really tell them why, and I couldn’t pretend like it was to introduce Maddox to my parents, since they’d known him forever.
I shrugged my shoulders. “We were out running errands.” I lied. “So, we went out there and had lunch with them.”
“I wanna know what DJ B. Goode had to say about you and Busy. What? Dating?” Joya said.
“He said that he’s always liked Busy.”
“He likes Busy? Uncle B. doesn’t like anybody.” Indigo reminded us.
“Apparently, except for Busy.” Kyndall commented. “What did he say, exactly? Just, ‘I really like you, Busy’?”
“He said that he’s always admired Busy’s self-discipline.” I told them, leaving off the tidbit about Busy not shitting where he ate.
Maddox
6
A few hours later, after spades, bid whist, and dominoes had died down, Mecca was standing in a circle of her cousins talking. I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist and bent over to whisper in her ear.
“Don’t tense up.” I told her, although from my body language anybody watching us probably thought I said something intimate. “Keep that same energy you had in my truck.”