Who's That Lady?

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Who's That Lady? Page 6

by Andrea Jackson


  Crystal moaned softly. She turned toward him and used her free arm to clasp his body to hers. This was too good a fantasy to pass up.

  She spread her knees wide in wordless invitation. Their bodies merged together like wax melting under a flame. The world and time ceased to exist. They were two mindless forces of nature pounding and grinding into one another in a wild rhythm of passion. Over and over again, she came to the peak of ecstasy, felt herself fall, only to be carried higher by his slow, rhythmic driving. She struggled to keep quiet in some crazy compulsion not to interrupt whatever sleep-induced fantasy he pursued.

  She urged with gasps and stroking hands. At last he tottered on the brink of his own climax, and then shuddered into a frenzy of release. She held on to him tightly, her ankles crossed behind his hips. His explosion brought on her own final release. She floated back to earth, spent and dazed by the experience.

  They lay still in one another’s arms, letting their breathing return to normal, their sweat-soaked bodies cool under the gentle whishing of the overhead fan.

  “Oh, yeah, oh yeah,” he whispered and rolled off her onto his back.

  Crystal, though awake now, remained immobile until she heard a gentle snore. After a pause, she lifted up to peer at him, helped by the dim light coming through the half-open bedroom door. Key was in complete repose with a wide smile on his half-open mouth and his eyes closed.

  Oh my God! That was incredible. For a moment Crystal tried to convince herself she had imagined it all. But no, the soreness of her arms and legs, along with the tenderness of her sex, were too real. Her memories of the past night weren’t clear, but there was enough to make her feel simultaneously mortified and titillated.

  A thousand questions swirled through her head. What had happened? Had they both lost their minds? Had she somehow given away to him how much she cared about him? Men could sense when a woman was available. They sniffed it in the air or something, like the predatory animals they were.

  And what would he expect from her now? For that matter, what did she expect from him? What would they talk about if they were lovers? Would they start to make demands on each other? Take each other for granted? The thought panicked her.

  Losing Key would be like stepping into a roaring void. Panic set her muscles quivering, jumping to pull her up from the bed. She couldn’t think when she was this close to Key’s scrumptious body. Her flight instinct kicked into gear.

  Easing from the bed, she stood still and waited until the missiles finished exploding inside her head. Then she tiptoed from the bedroom, closing the door after her.

  Reaching the living room, she paused to analyze her physical condition. Could she make it home, or would it be easier to simply lie down here on the floor and die? A quick look around the room made her shudder. Not here. She couldn’t die here amidst the evidence of her disgrace. Articles of clothing were scattered haphazardly across the furnishings. She found one of her socks hanging from a lampshade. The snaps closing the waist of her jeans had been ripped. Her sweater was turned inside out and tangled up with Key’s shirt. Her bra, found in between the couch cushions, had been torn open at the clasps in back. What was even more mortifying was the realization that both her bra and panties were the kind Shonté deemed “grandmomma drawers” —serviceable, double-thick, stretchy cotton. Boring beige. Her only consolation was in knowing Key had never actually seen them, thank God. She shoved the underwear into her pocket and grabbed her purse.

  The sight of Key’s sneakers tumbled near the bedroom door almost brought her to tears. They had been so pristine and white when he picked her up. Key’s only concession to vanity was his unending supply of white athletic shoes. He never wore a pair more than a few times, giving them away when the first scuff marred them. These were totally ruined. The soles showed black scrapes and cuts, as well as several noxious looking stains on white leather.

  Well, the next stop for these shoes was the trash can. Would her friendship with Key be trashed along with them?

  She tore her attention from the shoes and dialed a cab on her cell phone, then waited for it outside in the cold pre-dawn darkness.

  At home, she tried to sneak quietly into the house and get to her room, but when she opened the front door, Shonté rushed out of the kitchen in the camisole and boxer shorts she slept in. Her long hair floated in an unkempt cloud and her small eyes were wide, her nose shiny.

  “Where have you been?” Shonté’s voice shrilled like a nagging wife.

  Crystal winced. The sound hit her like the shattering explosion of automatic weapons. “Please, not so loud,” she begged.

  “Are you all right?” Shonté asked, instantly concerned.

  “Yes, yes. I just need to lie down in a dark room for a little while,” Crystal muttered.

  Shonté’s brows rose toward her hairline and her mouth fell open. “You’re hung over!”

  Crystal clutched her ears. “Is that what this is? It feels like death by inches.”

  “You got drunk and spent the night with someone? Crystal! How could you?” Shonté’s expression struggled between shock and disbelief.

  Crystal grimaced and started toward the stairs. Shonté followed.

  “Who is he?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It will never happen again.” She couldn’t bear the questions her friend would ask if she knew Crystal had been with Key.

  “A one night stand?” Shonté’s screech set off the bombs in Crystal’s head again. “You spent the night with some man you don’t care about?”

  Ooh, that hurt. Which was more humiliating: letting her think she didn’t know her bed partner or confessing a ‘hit-it-and-quit-it’ with her brother? Crystal’s brain twisted away from the attempt to think rationally. “I know, I know,” she muttered. “But I really need to sleep now, Shonté.”

  “But Crystal, you’ve been lecturing me about Trevor all this time. Now you turn around and sleep with some man you don’t even know? I hope you at least used a condom!”

  Crystal plowed to a halt at the bottom of the staircase. She managed to remain nearly upright by bracing herself with a hand on the step at waist level. She groaned. Had they used any? She didn’t even carry them with her! This episode was getting more and more nightmarish.

  And Shonté wasn’t letting up either. “Crystal? Do you hear me? Answer me! Who was this man you slept with?”

  “You’re not my mother, Shonté,” she mumbled, pulling herself up the stairs on all fours.

  “Maybe not, but I think I deserve to know why it’s okay for you and not for me to stay out all night. Is this supposed to be payback?”

  “It was an accident,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  Shonté stood at the bottom of the steps. “All right, go to bed for now. But when you wake up, I’m going to know the name of that man, or else!”

  Like hell you will! That, at least, was clear in Crystal’s mind. There was no way she was ever telling Shonté who she’d slept with last night. She didn’t know how she was going to shut Key up yet, but she had to keep this from Shonté.

  She finally reached the hallway at the top of the stairs. Holding onto the banister, she mustered her most shriveling glare to freeze Shonté. “Look, let’s just both admit we’re sluts and be done with it.”

  She turned her back, lurched into her bedroom and slammed the door. For a minute, she leaned up against it, waiting for the room and her stomach to stop spinning.

  Great. She was about to lose both her friends because of one wild night of uncharacteristic debauchery. Shonté was furious with her, and who knew what Key was going to think when he woke up? She had to figure out what to say to him and how to keep Shonté off her back. Then everything could go back to the way it had been. She hoped.

  But right now all she wanted was sleep.

  * * *

  The furtive opening and closing of her bedroom door dragged her from merciful oblivion. She could hear Shonté in the hallway, saying, “No, she’s still asleep.” She went o
n talking in a way that suggested she was on the telephone. Her voice faded into the distance.

  Crystal rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand through one blurred eye. It was late afternoon now. She wanted food and a shower. She guessed the shower should come first.

  She dragged herself out of bed, hurting in places she hadn’t known had muscles. While the warm spray of the shower brought back feelings of humanity, it also brought back memories. Tiny vignettes kept popping through the alcohol-induced amnesia.

  Sucking on Key’s muscled thigh and moving higher. Key behind her while she was on her hands and knees. Howling? Geez. And as if the sex wasn’t bad enough, there were other appalling moments floating around inside her head. Had she thrown up on Key’s shoes while they stood in the street outside the club? And had she really almost fought with some ghetto girl? Funny, all she could remember of this rival was her beautiful manicure, which made her nails look like a tiny tropical beach scene, complete with palm trees and little dots of boats on the blue water.

  After awhile Crystal leaned against the wall of the shower, biting her lips and shaking her head against the memories. It took awhile but she pulled herself together. She had to get through it, that’s all there was to it.

  The night seemed more and more like a hallucination anyway. They’d both been drinking. Maybe, if she was lucky, Key wouldn’t even remember what happened. Or maybe she could pretend she didn’t remember.

  She turned off the shower and walked to her bedroom wrapped in a towel.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Key called,” said Shonté. “He’s bringing someone over he wants you to meet.”

  Crystal’s heart thudded against her ribs. Looked like she’d have to deal with Key sooner rather than later.

  She grabbed some clothes to put on, then armed herself with a blow dryer and went to the mirror. Oh, hell! She looked like she’d just climbed out of a morgue. Dark patches splotched her ashen skin, and her eyelids were red and puffy. She grabbed some moisturizing lotion and slathered it on her face, neck and arms.

  My hair! Smothering a groan, she gave it a cursory drying and secured it with an elastic band at her nape.

  All the time, her brain was moving on fast forward speed. Why was he coming over here now? What kind of mood would he be in? Who was he bringing with him? Was this person connected with last night somehow? A shrink? A preacher? An exorcist? Someone planning to sue her?

  The sound of the doorbell made her drop the hairbrush to the dresser top with a clatter. Motionless, her heart hammering, she concentrated on taking deep, calming breaths. Be cool. Stay calm.

  After a minute, she wiped her sweaty palms on her pants legs, moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and walked out to face her ordeal.

  She was on the stairs when she heard Shonté open the door with a greeting. Crystal’s heart did a little skip at the sound of Key’s voice when he responded. She plastered on a smile and kept moving steadily down the stairs as Key came through the door, then half turned to extend his hand to someone outside.

  A young girl allowed herself to be drawn inside. Flashing Shonté a nervous smile, she ducked her head shyly. The girl couldn’t have been more than seventeen or so. Tall, slender, with a mass of long coppery braids hanging down her back, she wore a pair of tight, low-slung jeans. When she slipped off her jacket, a strapless top bared her shoulders. She would have been narrow-waisted except for the bulge of early pregnancy pushing between her top and her jeans. One fine-boned hand spread protectively over her protruding belly.

  Crystal rocked to a stop on the step, a scowl twisting her face. Who the hell was she? Had Key lost his mind, hauling around an underage pregnant teenage girl? She was positive the girl had something to do with one of Key’s football players, but didn’t the man know the meaning of the word discretion? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d let his concern get him in trouble.

  She didn’t realize she’d made a sound until all three of them turned to look up at her curiously.

  “You okay, Shortcake?”

  “I’m okay,” she said through gritted teeth. “Are you? What is this, a kidnapping or something?”

  He sprang away from the girl’s side as if burned. The flash of guilt he shot at her was secretly gratifying. “She’s not with me! I’m helping someone. I know after last night, I should have called…or something…But when the phone call came this morning, I didn’t know who else to go to. You know?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She made an effort to pull herself together. After last night! Good grief, it was already affecting the way they interacted. Of course he’d come to her for help. That was exactly the way she wanted it. Nothing more.

  “What’s the matter?” Shonté asked with an anxious tone.

  “Nothing. I’m okay.” She wiped a hand across her mouth, then turned to the girl, who was watching them with huge, scared eyes.

  “Come on in, honey. Let’s sit down and talk.”

  Key made introductions. “This is Jalessa Hines. My sister Shonté and her roommate Crystal Taylor, who I told you about.”

  Shonté invited them to the kitchen where she had prepared a meal. Crystal took note of the savory smells wafting through the condo, but her stomach rebelled.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” she mumbled.

  Key hung back while Shonté led Jalessa toward the dining area. Now that she could notice details, Crystal saw he wasn’t looking much better than she felt. His normally gleaming skin was ashen, the skin beneath his eyes looked bruised, and he sported scruffy beard stubble. He was dressed in jeans, a jersey and new shoes, dazzling in their whiteness.

  As soon as the other two were out of earshot, he caught her elbow, his look guarded but intense. “Listen, we’ve got to talk later,” he murmured in a low tone. “I know this isn’t the best time, but I couldn’t let these kids do something crazy—”

  Crystal couldn’t suppress a slight gasp at the feel of his hand on her arm. He had touched her a thousand times, but today her nerve endings reacted as if to the most intimate stroke, igniting her being with sexual tension.

  “It’s fine, Key,” she managed to say in a near normal voice. “Really,” she added, giving his arm a friendly pat. She fled to the downstairs bathroom.

  CHAPTER 6

  Once she’d locked the door, she stared at her face in the mirror, her hands pressed to her cheeks.

  Get a grip, you fool! Do not make an ass of yourself because you got a little nookie last night. He’d brought this girl here, to her, because he depended on her, as a friend, to help him. And she was going to have to forget about last night so she could do that. Key had obviously managed to do so.

  She turned on the faucet in the sink to douse cold water on her face. That was exactly the way she wanted it. No morning-after guilt to sour their friendship. She didn’t want him thinking about how she’d melted into him, devoured him, inhaled him—

  Stop it! she ordered the images in her head. More cold water and a firm scrubbing with a towel brought back a semblance of calm.

  “So what’s going on?” she asked when she walked into the dining area where the others were gathered around the table.

  Crystal aimed the question at Key more than at Jalessa, who was wolfing down lasagna.

  “Remember Marcus, the kid who called me that time we were at Finnegan’s? Jalessa’s his girlfriend. She and her mom had a big fight. She was going to run away, but Marcus convinced her to come to me first.”

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “I told him to come by later. I’m trying to keep inside the NCAA rules, which means I can only spend a limited amount time with him. I thought you could be our intermediary.”

  “Of course,” she agreed. She smiled at the girl. “So why don’t you tell me what happened, Jalessa?”

  The teenaged girl put down her fork, her expression stubborn. One shoulder jerked. “My momma wanted to send me away to my grandmomma�
�s to have the baby. She doesn’t like Marcus.”

  “Okay. So what did you plan to do instead?”

  “I’m gonna marry Marcus when he finishes school.”

  Key, Crystal and Shonté exchanged speaking looks across the girl’s bent head.

  Crystal chose her words with care. “I can tell you’re in love with this young man. But have you thought about the practical points? Where will you live if you get married? How can he support you? Will he have to drop out of school? Key thinks he’s a talented athlete.”

  Key chimed in. “He’s got a good shot at being offered a four year scholarship at Hope. After he gets his degree, he could make a good life for a family.”

  “We wouldn’t have to worry about money if he made it to the pros,” said Jalessa.

  “There’s no guarantee he’ll go pro. Anything can happen,” said Key, slapping his knee. “Ten years ago I was on my way to the pros, until a lineman ran over me like a bulldozer.”

  “And if he has to drop out of school to take care of you and the baby,” Crystal added, “he won’t get seen by recruiters.”

  Jalessa slumped in her chair, her gaze darting about unhappily. “He doesn’t have to do that. I can stay with my momma.”

  “I thought you were trying to get away from her house?” Crystal pointed out.

  Jalessa sank her forehead into both hands and puffed a sigh. “I know. I just flipped out. She made me so mad. But I can go back for a little while. For Marcus.”

  “How long do you plan to stay there? How will you support yourself and the baby?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Is that the kind of life you want? Will he be away at college? There’s a lot of pressure trying to maintain a long distance relationship. You’ll have the responsibility of the baby and your mom telling you what to do. He’ll be going out to parties and on trips with the team.”

 

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