by Tracy Gray
“You’re welcome.”
A comfortable silence settled over the truck, Maddox thinking his own thoughts, and me wondering if he had always been this person - this selfless, sweetheart of a guy - even when I disliked him and thought he was an arrogant asshole.
We seemed to be the last ones to arrive at the restaurant. Heavy pulled up just in time for us to see Maddox’s younger brother, NFL wide receiver, Xavier Mayhew and three other guys disappear into the door of the eatery. Heavy jumped out of the truck, and quickly opened Maddox’s door, allowing him to slide out.
I waited as Maddox walked around the truck, swung open my door and extended his hand to me. “You ready?”
“Yep.”
Xavier was the first person to greet me when we walked into the private room for dinner. He pulled me into a breath-snatching embrace. I returned the love, even though a small part of me had beef with him for the way he played my little cousin, Reign Champion, back when they were dating. Still, he was like another little cousin to me, having watched him grow up from the time he was 3 years old, until he went off to college.
“I’m kinda tempted to cuff ya ass right now, just to make your boy go off.” He whispered into my ear.
“Don’t do it.” I cautioned him with a chuckle. “You’ll traumatize me. I can’t imagine getting felt up by little Xavier Mayhew.”
“I’m not so little anymore. Ask about me.”
He released me from his grasp, and I took a quick second to give him the “up-down.” He wasn’t lying. Little Xavier Mayhew was all grown up. “I don’t need to ask about you, you’re standing right here in front of me.”
“And I’m grown.” He stated, like he still wanted me to give him my stamp of approval.
“You’re grown, and very handsome.”
Grabbing my hand, Xavier walked us over to the table and held my seat while I sat down.
“Back off, Little Dude.” Maddox ribbed him good-naturedly.
Xavier took the elder Mayhew’s razzing in stride. “You mad because I’m pulling out her chair? You better level up, before I leave this restaurant with her.”
Maddox was dismissive in the way that only older siblings could be. “Whatever, man.” He sat down next to me and made the introductions, pointing to each man as he named him. “Yo Mecca, this is Kolby Foz; Justus Alexander, Robeson Miller, that’s Lance Gardner and you know X’s ass. Ay, this is my girl, Mecca Goode.”
“I don’t remember you being how we’re doing it in the Chi?” Robeson Miller flirted. “Hell, I might need to come home more often.”
I simply smiled.
“Don’t get your ass ripped at this table.” Maddox warned.
Robeson clearly wasn’t one to stand down easily. He completely ignored Maddox’s threat. “So, gorgeous, how’d you meet this burly, swoll motherfucker?”
“We grew up across the street from each other.” Maddox supplied.
Robeson gave him the screw face. “Who asked you, Dox? I’m talking to her. I hear your scratchy, Barry White ass voice all of the time. I’m trying to hear something feminine. Let her talk.”
“Next time bring your own girl.”
“Next time, she might be mine.”
That was when I spoke up, with a shake of my head. “No, I won’t be yours. I’m too busy being his.”
That must’ve been the right thing to say, because Busy leaned over to me and whispered in my ear. “Oooh shit, Pudding. Don’t fuck around and make me forget we’re pretending up in here.”
Maddox
7
Heavy dropped us off at Mecca’s place after dinner. I noticed that once again, the first thing Mecca did when she entered her condo was to start working on removing those sky-high sandals.
“You got, like an aversion to high heels, but you stay wearing them.” I commented.
She looked at me and nodded like she didn’t understand my point. “High heels make my legs look good. They accentuate the calf muscles, and emphasize the curvature. They just hurt like hell.”
“Newsflash Pudding, you’ve got some sexy ass legs. You don’t need to torture yourself with twelve inch heels. Your legs would look sexy in high top Converse.”
She hit me with the million-dollar smile that I could definitely get used to, as she padded past me in her bare feet. “Thanks, Busy. Be right back.”
I made myself comfortable on her sofa until she returned, wearing black biker shorts and a cropped Hampton University t-shirt.
Fuck! I thought to myself. Why did she have to be so sexy? And why couldn’t my mind stop replaying what she’d told Miller at the restaurant.
“I’m too busy being his.”
I shook my head slightly to clear it and patted the sofa next to me. “Come sit down, and I’ll rub your feet. I know they hurt after those sandals.”
She sighed heavily, as she made her way over to the sofa and plopped down next to me. “I’m a dancer, my feet always hurt. Doesn’t matter if I’m wearing high heeled sandals or gym shoes.”
I pulled her right leg into my lap, trying not to get distracted by the silky smoothness of her honey colored skin. I wrapped my hands around her foot.
“When you hang up your cleats, you should follow your true calling and become a certified masseuse.” She practically moaned, which between her foot in my lap, how sexy she sounded and how relaxed she looked made me have to adjust myself, because my dick was trying to grow.
“Yo, there’s something I always wanted to ask you ever since we were shorties on the block.”
Her eyes were closed as she enjoyed the sensation of me rubbing her foot, but she slowly peeled them open. “What’s that?” Her voice was raspy, choked with placidity.
“What the hell did you used to spend all that time talking to my grandmother about?”
Mecca’s body quivered with laughter.
“I’m not saying she was boring or anything,” I continued, “but you would be over there for hours and hours. I thought that was the weirdest shit when I was in high school.” I tapped her leg lightly, so she knew to put her right one down and give me her left one.
She placed her left leg in my lap. “Oh man, I was over there getting wisdom. Between your grandmother and Auntie Bo, I learned how to be a woman.”
Well, that shit was intriguing. “What do you mean?”
“They just poured into me. I could talk to them about anything. Anything. And I did. I think I told your grandmother when I lost my virginity.”
“Straight up? That’s weird, Pudding. I didn’t even tell her when I lost mine.”
She chuckled. “Your grandmother and Auntie Bo would listen and give advice, but they weren’t judgy. I’ve had a lot of messed up experiences in my life, and they walked me through all of that.”
“Like what? Or is it too personal?”
“Like why I decided to take up boxing. Everybody thinks I took it up, because I wanted sexy arms like Angela Bassett in What’s Love Got to Do with It, but I’m not that vain.”
“But you let people think that?”
“To be honest Busy, one of the biggest lessons your grandmother and my great aunt taught me is to not give no fucks about what people think. They can think what they wanna think. I used to suffer from nice-girl syndrome, like a lot of women do. I wanted people to think I’m nice, to like me. Now, I’m on some, take me as I am or kiss my ass...quick.”
“Why’d you take up boxing, Mecca?” It was more than curiosity. It was the perverse need for her to confide in me, to share things with me that she hadn’t shared with many people.
“Basically because I got tired of being groped by fuckboys and creeps. When I told my parents that I was going to pursue dance as a career, the first thing they did was make me enroll in self-defense classes. That’s because my mama had her fair share of scary experiences when she was a video dancer back in the 90s, and my father couldn’t always be available to whup ass or do security. She took self-defense, so they made me take self-defense. The first time a
dude groped me after I finished my self-defense classes...I froze up. I couldn’t think of how to do any of the techniques. He took my lack of action to stop him as my permission.”
“Damn.”
“That is like, the number one thing they drill into you when you take self-defense classes. That the possibility of you freezing is very real. I never thought I would freeze, though. I had mentally played out what I would do in a situation like that, and it did not include freezing up. But when dude touched me, it was like I had an out of body experience. I could see his lips moving, knew he was talking slick to me, but I didn’t hear the words. All I could hear was my brain shouting for me to do...something, but I was frozen.”
“What happened?”
“I danced with the band, in these little skimpy, revealing ass costumes. Somebody was always getting touched, propositioned, or grabbed. I wasn’t a frequent flyer, because I was the only black girl on the team, which made me invisible to most of the white boys on that campus.
There was this one dude, though. Running back on the football team. The motherfucker must’ve been feeling himself that day. He grabbed my ass and kissed my lips. But when he pulled me to him, and I could feel his penis pressing all on me, I snapped out of it. I still didn’t go into self-defense, though. I mean, I went into defense of self, but I didn’t go into self-defense techniques. I just went crazy.” She chuckled humorlessly. “I went smooth South Side. Balled up my fist and went straight ham. He was shocked when he caught these hands. My punches were garbage, but he wasn’t expecting them, so they were effective. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, I kneed him in the nuts, and ran.
Of course, I called my mom and told her what happened, and how I froze up. I was embarrassed, and disappointed in myself. I went into a shell after that incident, didn’t like being anywhere on campus alone. My mom was like, ‘you need more self-defense classes.’ My dad said, nah. He told me that if I was willing to box niggas to get away from them, then I should learn how to box niggas. He came to campus about a week after the incident, with about five of his goons, took me around town and found me a gym.”
“Come through, DJ B. Goode. I would’ve done the same damn thing for my daughter. Except, I would’ve beat dude to a bloody pulp.”
She eyed me curiously. “That’s what the goons were for.”
“Dudes left you alone on campus?”
“I ended up having to transfer out of Wheatin University. I mean, I accused one of the most celebrated football stars of violating me, then my black daddy showed up and showed his ass. He blessed out the administration. Had his lawyer draft letters to the school president, the board of trustees and the alumni association. Then he came on the yard and the next day campus security found dude’s bloody, battered body in the parking lot of an apartment complex just off campus? Everybody knew what happened to dude. Who happened to dude. That campus became a very uncomfortable place for me to be. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Your grandmother never told you that I was invited to leave Wheatin?”
“Nah, I mean, she told me that you graduated from Hampton University, but I thought that’s where all of this took place.”
“That happened at the PWI - the predominantly white institution. After that, I transferred to Hampton. I needed to be able to look around and see some faces that looked like mine.”
“I’m assuming that things went better at Hampton.”
“And you’d be wrong.” She stated flatly. “Athletes, frat boys, fuckboys - different school, same crap. For whatever reason, some men think that they have a right or something, to touch women’s bodies at their whim.”
I wanted to be surprised by the information, but I couldn’t be. I knew dudes, had spent the majority of my life in athletics. I knew how easy it was for some to develop a false sense of self and of worth. I knew how patriarchy could lead them to believe that anything they decided they wanted was supposed to be theirs. For a lot of dudes, women were so far down the list of things that were important, that they barely saw them as humans. I’d been in more conversations than I cared to remember where men talked about women like they were merely walking vaginas with beautiful faces, and mouths that talked a lot of shit.
“Things were better, but there were still times when I had to get belligerent. When I had to use boxing and self-defense techniques, the old...1, 2 punch.”
“Haha. Corny ass.” I told her.
She laughed at herself.
“You’re so corny.”
“I thought that was cute.” She admitted.
“You’re cute, but what you just said...nah.” I tapped her leg lightly, so that she knew to remove her leg from my lap. My semi-hard dick was deflated like a motherfucker. Talking about perverted, rapey assholes had that effect on me. “So Kentucky. Tomorrow afternoon. Do you need me to pick you up?”
“Do you think that would be easiest?”
I looked over at her, staring unabashedly. Apparently the intensity of my gaze made her uncomfortable.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m just wondering why I never knew you were this...congenial. Things with you are really, really easy.”
“Is that not what you’re used to?”
“Not at all.” I stood up from the couch and stretched. “I’m used to a frustrating, crazy push-and-pull where everything is a struggle.”
She eyed me suspiciously as she stood from her seated position. “Seems like you need to date a different caliber of women.”
“Yeah, I do...and if anybody asks, I am.” I winked at her. “I’ll pick you up at 4:30.”
She stretched, going up on her tip-toes, and giving me a look at the definition in her calves. I shook my head in appreciation.
“You’ve got some sexy legs, Mecca.”
“Are you a leg guy?” There was a wicked gleam in her pretty brown eyes.
“I think I’m a “Mecca” guy.”
She chuckled as she pushed me lightly on the forearm. “Stop playing, Busy.”
I caught her by the wrist and pulled her lithe body to mine. “Ain’t nobody playing.”
She looked up at me, curiosity filling her expressive eyes as they bounced between my eyes and my mouth.
“We gotta dilemma.”
“What’s that?” She whispered breathily.
“I wanna kiss you right now, but…”
I didn’t get to finish my thought, because Mecca reached up, wrapped her hands around the back of my head and pulled me down until our lips were touching. At first contact, I knew I needed more. I swept my tongue into her mouth, intertwining it with hers. While my tongue explored hers, my hands found her perfect ass and cupped it bringing her body even closer to mine. I deepened the kiss, plunging my tongue into her mouth, my grip on her ass so possessive that I lifted her off of her feet. She wrapped her sexy, powerful legs around my waist and kissed me passionately until the need for oxygen overtook the desire to connect with one another.
She rested her head on my shoulder, panting lightly. “Uhm, your grandmother is probably doing the Holy Ghost two-step right now.”
“Probably.” I chuckled, setting her down on her feet. I stared down at her. “How did I ever manage to avoid you?” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but apparently, my mouth didn’t get the memo.
“I don’t know.”
“Me either.” Stop staring at her like a fucking creep. I chastised myself. “Uhm, so I’ll call you around 4:30 when Heavy and I are downstairs.”
“Okay.”
I followed her to the front door, where she turned around to face me, placed her open hand against my chest and gave me a smile. “See you tomorrow, Busy.”
I couldn’t stop myself from bending down and placing a gentle kiss on her pouty lips. “Later, Pudding.”
Mecca
By the time I got Busy’s big, sexy ass out of my condo, I had so much repressed energy that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I tried sitting down on the couch, but I couldn’t shut my mind down
. Finally, I broke down and pulled out my phone. There were a gang of women in my family. I mean, not only did I have my mama; her four sisters, and her two sisters-in-law; I also had ten first cousins who were female; and a younger sister. I could call any of them, and get advice, encouragement, love, wisdom or understanding. But there was really only one person whose counsel I wanted on the Maddox Mayhew situation, so I Facetimed her.
Her pretty face appeared on my screen. “Hey MeMe. What’s up?” She whispered. It was after midnight. I knew it was probably too late to be calling her, but I needed to talk, and it was either her, or my mother. And I definitely didn’t want to have to talk to Janaye Goode about wanting to get with Maddox Mayhew.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Who is that?” I heard her husband’s sleepy voice ask.
“It’s MeMe.”
“What’s up, Mecca?”
“Hey Nasir.”
“Let me go in the closet.” She said, as she climbed out of bed.
“Don’t be gone all night.” Nasir told her.
“I won’t.”
I was quiet as I watched her move through her oversized master bedroom, and into her outrageous walk-in closet. She shut the door with a click, sat down and came back into focus.
“Now, what’s up?”
Since I knew she didn’t have a lot of time, I told her about the situation with Maddox, and how we were pretending to date to help his reputation. I knew Joya would keep the secret. She was married to a music industry heavy. She understood playing the game.
“I thought the pictures at that benefit and the relationship came outta nowhere, but when I saw y’all at the anniversary party, it looked like the real deal Holyfield to me. I mean, the chemistry, though. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you - had you sitting all in his lap, kissing all over your neck. When you left the party, it was like you all couldn’t get outta here fast enough.”