As Kim walked her fine ass back in the room and dug in one of my dresser drawers, I licked my lips, and said, “That’s what you do with the money I send you, huh?”
“Shit, gotta do something.” I guess he was referring to the fact that he had retired from his factory job a few years earlier.
“I hear you. What’s up, Unc?”
“You know Ever’s birthday’s coming up. Barbie planning a big party, and she got me calling to invite everybody. You the first person I called since you Ever’s baby.”
“Yeah, I knew it was coming up in a couple of weeks. Already got my eye on her gift. You know I’ll be there, Unc. Probably stay at Ev’s crib.”
“Okay. Barbie say she gonna text you the details after she puts everything together.”
“A’ight. I’ma call her, too, see if she needs any money or anything.”
“Aw, shit! My ass done won a hundred dollars! Hey, let me get five of them Big Moneys and some Newport 100s—soft pack. I don’t fuck around with them boxes.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Unc, I’ma let you go.” I swear it was hard to clown Neil about his gambling when Uncle Lee’s ass was worse than him. He just wasn’t an alcoholic. At least not really.
“All right, Nephew!”
I ended the call and looked up to see my woman in one of my Miami Heat t-shirts, leaning against my dresser, smiling at me. So I stood from the bed, walked over to her, and kissed her. “What you smiling at?” I asked.
She wrapped her arms around me. “The finest man in St. Louis.”
“Just St. Louis?”
“Okay. Missouri.”
“Damn, not the world?”
“Unh-uh…the universe.”
I picked her up and she giggled as she wrapped her legs around my waist. “Damn straight. They don’t get no finer than me, plus I got a big dick and a long tongue and I’m rich. Shit, I’m winning, baby.”
She shook her head. “You are so damn crazy.”
“But am I lying, though?”
“Naw, you ain’t lying. You’re winning, and I’m winning ‘cause you’re mine.”
I nodded. “I’m yours all damn day, baby.”
“What was your uncle talking about? You shoulda put him on speaker so I could hear. He cracks me up.”
“I wasn’t finna have you sniggling and shit at my uncle again.”
She laughed. “You use the oldest words sometimes. Sniggling?”
“Old folks raised me. Anyway, he was talking about my aunt’s birthday party.”
“The one that raised you?”
I nodded. “It’s gonna be back home, probably at her house in a couple of weeks.”
“You going? Isn’t preseason coming up?”
“Yeah, but Barbie—her daughter—knows to schedule it before then.”
“So you’re about to leave me, huh?”
“Come with me like you said you would the next time I leave town.”
“Leland, you know—”
“Here you go with that shit. Look, it’s my family. They know not to take pictures or run their mouths. Everett will be there, and he don’t play that. Never has. Plus, I doubt anyone will know who you are. They ain’t really basketball people despite my being in the NBA. My family loves football. Come meet my folks, baby. I want you to meet everyone, especially my auntie.”
“I want to, and I’m flattered that you want me to, but…”
I sighed, walked over to the bed, and set her down on it. Then I turned for the bathroom without saying another word.
I was peeing when I felt her hand on my back. “Leland?” Her voice was soft, almost timid.
I finished my business, shook, and flushed, then moved to the sink to wash my hands. “I’m not trying to argue with you, Kim. If you don’t wanna go, you ain’t gotta go.”
She followed me back into the bedroom where I fell into bed and grabbed the remote from the nightstand. “I do wanna go. I really do,” she said.
With my eyes on the TV, I said, “Then go.”
“You know I can’t.”
I shrugged. “If you say so.”
The next thing I knew, she was straddling me. She wasn’t wearing panties and her scent wafted into my nose, so of course I got hard as a damn rock, but I still picked her up and sat her beside me, then resumed my channel surfing.
“Are you mad?” she asked.
“Mad? Naw. Fed the fuck up? Yeah, most definitely.”
“What do you want me to do?”
I looked at her with raised eyebrows. “I’m not about to go in circles with you, Kim. You know what the hell I want. I want you to come to Houston with me. Shit!”
“I—”
“Can’t. You already said that. I heard you. And it’s whatever.”
I could hear her sigh. “Okay, but I thought you understood my position.”
I turned to look at her. “What I understand is that most women want to meet my family, beg me to let them meet them, but you?” I shook my head. “Fuck it.”
“I do want to meet them, Leland. I-are you gonna break up with me over this?”
I eyed her. “Is that what you want?”
“No, but I can tell this whole thing is getting to you and…you deserve a woman who doesn’t have all this baggage and stuff that she carries with her.”
“Man, Kim…just leave it alone. You say you can’t come, cool. I’ll go alone, come back here, and we’ll keep having sex in secret and eating and watching TV and shit like a couple of teenagers. You were so worried about my age, but I’m grown enough not to let other people run my damn life.”
“My son doesn’t run my life.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“He doesn’t! It’s just that I owe him a lot, and—”
“What? The condo? Your car? You think I can’t replace that shit for you? Hell, you could move in here with me and I’ll buy you three cars.”
“It’s not just that he takes care of me. I mean, I put him through a lot with my past relationships, and I don’t like upsetting him if I can help it.”
I turned from her face back to the TV. “It’s cool, Kim. I mean, it’s whatever. Do what you gotta do, and I’ma do the same.”
“W-what does that mean?”
“Whatever you think it means.”
She sat there beside me for a couple of minutes before I felt her lift from the bed. Then she moved around the room, getting dressed.
“I’m gonna just go. I can see I’ve upset you and you’re talking crazy now,” she said.
I fixed my eyes on her. “I’m the one talking crazy? Okay.”
Her face folded for a second before she fixed it and grabbed her purse from the floor next to her side of the bed.
Her side of the bed.
Shit.
This was all fucked up. I should’ve never messed with her, shouldn’t have agreed to this secrecy stuff. But now my heart was in this. Yeah, this was a totally fucked-up situation.
I didn’t move a muscle as she left. I was tired as hell and had a damn headache. So I closed my eyes, tried not to think about how much I already missed her, and soon fell asleep.
*****
“Leland, wake up.”
My eyes popped open to darkness and quiet. My first thought was that I was dreaming about her. But then she called my name again, so I reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. She was there, eyes wide with apprehension.
“Damn, I must’ve slept all day, missed both my workouts. What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s after nine. I’ve been calling you,” Kim said, a deep frown on her face.
I groped for my phone on the night table, checked it, and said, “It’s dead. What’s up?” through a yawn.
“I…can you come with me?”
“Why?”
“Just come with me. Please.”
My head was in a fog, I was still half-asleep, and my bladder was about to bust, but I’d follow her anywhere, even though I was frustrated as hell with her. So I climbed
out of bed, took her outstretched hand, and followed her through my barely-furnished condo—all I had was a couch and a bedroom set. I’d gotten rid of the stuff I had in my place in Miami, because I was tired of it. Hadn’t gotten around to buying much for this new place.
When she got to my front door, she stopped, and said, “Put these on.”
How I didn’t notice her holding a pair of my shoes is a mystery to me. As I put them on, I asked, “We’re leaving? Where we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I need to lock up?”
“I have my key. I’ll do it,” she said.
A few seconds later, we were on the elevator. When she pressed the two, I realized what was going on. “Kim, are we—”
She pressed a finger to my lips. “Just let me do this.”
I stared at her for a second, saw her eyes pleading with mine, and I nodded.
When we got to her door, she dug in the pocket of her jeans and handed me a key. “This is yours.”
“For your door?” I asked, shocked as hell. She had never even let me step foot in the place and she was giving me a key? For real?
She shrugged. “Try it and see.”
I stuck it in the door, turned it, and something swelled inside of me. Dropping my hand, I shook my head and looked at her, this woman who had my heart twisted all the way up. “I ain’t never been in love before, but I love you, you know that? I’m not playing. This is not a game. I love the hell out of your ass right now.”
She smiled at me. “But wait, there’s more. Come inside.”
I took her hand again, following her inside her condo. It had the same floor plan as mine, but on a smaller scale. Everything was closer together, and her place was full of furniture, nice furniture but not too nice. The place looked like a home, not a showcase, and it smelled good, too, like flowers or some shit like that. There were those throw blankets folded over the backs of the loveseat, sofa, and recliner in the living room. There was a huge TV, a stereo, the walls were covered in black art, and the tables held family photos, most of which were of her son. Her place was nice, lived in, cozy.
I turned my attention to the other end of the room where there was a dining room table with two place settings, candles, and covered dishes of food.
“What’s this?” I asked, as she stepped over to the front door, closing and locking it.
Crossing in front of me and sweeping her arm toward the table, she said, “I realized I’ve never cooked for you. You probably think I can’t cook, but I can throw down in the kitchen, so come eat.”
I gave her a grin as I headed to the table. “Baby, I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh!” she said, as she settled in the seat across from mine. “And I’m going to Houston with you. Let’s just…can we still be discreet?”
As she uncovered dishes of chicken spaghetti, salad, and yeast rolls, I nodded. “Yeah, but are you sure about all this? Me being here, having a key, you going to Houston?”
She gave me a tiny smile. “I’m sure I don’t wanna lose you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“I wasn’t gonna break up with you. This shit was just…you don’t have to do any of this if you’re not ready. I didn’t mean to push.”
“I wanna do it for the man who says he loves me.”
“It’s not just words, Kim. I mean it.”
“Then I’ll go, and you can keep the key, and tonight, we’ll sleep here.”
All I could do was smile, and say, “This looks good, and I’m hungry.”
“Then let me fix my man a plate.”
17
“What you doing?” was how he responded to my hello.
“Um, working? I’m at work, Leland. What else would I be doing?”
“Thinking about me.”
“Are you thinking about me?”
“Always. Hey, I want you to check something out.”
I was grinning hard as I said, “Okay…”
“Go to YouTube and check out the interview I did with Hot Ones. They finally posted it.”
I knew he’d done quite a few interviews recently, most of which I’d already watched, but I didn’t recall him mentioning this one. I loved those Hot Ones interviews. “Is there any special reason I need to watch it?” I asked.
“Yeah, because I want you to. ‘Bout to head in this gym and get my ass kicked. Talk to you later.”
“All right. Bye.”
I wasn’t lying when I said I was working, but Leland was a distraction, and even after we ended the call, I found myself thinking of him, about how he’d ravished me a week earlier after I gave him that key to my place. I can’t lie; that hadn’t been an easy decision for me, but I realized I was asking too much of him by expecting him to never want to see the inside of my home, and Armand barely ever visited me anyway. Hell, he was off living his life, which was one of the reasons I left Miami—I was always alone and when I tried to socialize, he blocked it acting a fool with every man who even looked in my direction. So, knowing that although my son liked to try to exercise some control over my life, he wasn’t really present in it, never made any surprise visits, and didn’t have a key to my place, giving that key to Leland and sharing my home with him was a no-brainer and made more sense than the status quo despite my apprehension. As far as the trip to Houston, I had enough sense to know that when a man wants you to meet his family, especially a man you care about, you need to make that happen. And hell, my son was in the NBA, not me. We didn’t even share the same last name. Most people had no idea who I was unless I told them even with me being on that documentary-style sports show with him after he was drafted, so things would be fine. Well, I hoped things would be fine, tried to convince myself they would, because I still wasn’t ready for the mess that would come with Armand finding out about us. But the fear of my son finding out about us wasn’t enough to change the fact that I was crazy about Leland. Who wouldn’t be? Yet, his attachment to me was a mystery. Not in a low self-esteem way, but in a “I’ve got to be a lot to deal with” way. Nevertheless, he said he loved me and I wanted to believe him.
Since I couldn’t get him off my mind, I abandoned my unfinished work and navigated to the YouTube app on my phone, feeling excited about seeing him on the tiny screen as if I hadn’t shared a bed with him the night before. The premise of Hot Ones was celebrities being interviewed while eating from a platter of progressively spicy chicken wings. The interviews were usually hilarious as the celebrities struggled to answer questions while trying to maintain their composure with a burning mouth. Leland wasn’t that big on spicy food, so I was interested to see how he’d do.
My eyes were glued to Leland in his jeans and plain white, v-neck tee with his favorite gold rope adorning his neck. I could see the tattoos on his bulging biceps, and my heart stuttered at the sight of the big smile he wore.
Beautiful, this man was just absolutely beautiful.
At first, I barely noticed the host or his questions but made myself climb out of the lust pit and really concentrate on everything. The questions were mostly benign, a lot of sports-related stuff that I didn’t totally understand, because although my child had always been a talented basketball player and I understood the sport, I never really watched games unless Boogie was playing, and I knew little to nothing of the business side of things. So all the talk about buyouts and player stats flew completely over my head.
They talked about Big South and music in general; then the host said, “Name your favorite rapper of all time besides your brother.”
By then, they were up to the third hottest wing, and Leland was sucking in air and puffing out his cheeks. I could also see his knee bouncing up and down and his hand gripping the edge of the table. He was trying to meet the challenge and not drink any milk, but those wings were kicking his ass.
“Uh—whew! Damn, uh…Little Kim,” he said, then winked at the camera.
My mouth dropped open. Was he referring to—
“Lil’ Kim?” the host repeated. “A female rapper, huh?”
Leland nodded, cleared his throat, blew out air, and said, “Yeah, man. I love me some Little Kim. I’m kind of obsessed with her. Be thinking about her all the time.” He licked his lips, winked again, and coughed.
With my hand muffling my mouth, I said, “This man is crazy.”
“So you’re a big fan of hers?”
“Man, I Stan for her like a motherfucker.”
My eyes were wide as I watched him continue the interview. He made it through all the wings then gulped the milk down, and screamed, “Shit! I made it!”
After I was done laughing at his silly butt, I texted him: You are a whole fool, Leland McClain!
DLS: U watched it? Did Little Kim hear my shout out to her?
Me: I’m about tired of you and Little Kim sneaking around behind my back. I thought you loved me, not her.
DLS: Shiiiit, I love both of y’all. Can’t wait to see y’all later. My place or urs?
Me: Yours because you seem to think I’m gonna cook when you’re at my place and I ain’t cooking tonight.
DLS: That’s a damn shame. Don’t even wanna cook for me with all this penis I been giving u.
I rolled my eyes. He was so damn silly. Just as I was typing out my reply, there was a knock at the door, which meant Peaches’ ass was predictably away from her desk.
I really need to fire this chick.
“Come in!” I yelled, looking up from my phone to see Zabrina opening the door and stepping into my office with a crazy look on her face.
I slammed my phone down on my desk and shook my head. “Oh, hell no. Turn your ass right back around.”
“It’s been two weeks! Come on, now. I have apologized a thousand times via text, left messages on your voicemail, Facebook messaged you, sent IG DMs. You gotta forgive me! It was an accident!”
I scoffed, “You accidentally told a secret you promised to keep? Really, Z?”
“It slipped out! Shelby was talking shit about you never having a man and I told her you keep a man and she said they must all be ugly or married since you’re never seen with anyone and I said, shiiiid, Leland McClain ain’t ugly. It just came out. My bad!”
Let Me Hold You (McClain Brothers Book 2) Page 12