Book Read Free

The Games We Play

Page 4

by Alexandra Warren


  While I could certainly see the resemblance, especially after Eric had said the same thing last night at the party, I still whisper-yelled, “Who cares!” Quickly turning away once I realized, “Shit, here he comes.”

  Khalid was halfway focused on the bacon, halfway focused on my freak out when Chance finally passed us, offering nothing more than a simple head nod my way before continuing on towards the living room.

  “Did he really just…”

  I didn’t even get to finish my thought when Khalid started laughing. “Damnnnn. You must’ve had him burnin’ when he peed this morning or somethin’.”

  “Fuck you, Khalid,” I snarled, throwing a jab at his shoulder before peeking in the other room to see Chance greeting all of the other women with much more enthusiasm.

  “So what the hell was that about?” I thought to myself, turning back to ask Khalid, “Should I go say something? I don’t even know what to say. Like… what was that?”

  The interaction was only a mere few seconds, but those few seconds were enough to have me shook since it didn’t make any sense after the time we had shared last night. Though Khalid attempted to bring some clarity when he replied, “If you’re asking me to translate, it’d probably be something like, “Thanks for the pussy, but I’m good on you”. Or maybe even a simple, “Bros before...””

  I held up my hand to cut him off. “Okay, okay. I get it. But I still don’t completely understand. I mean, I pulled out some of my best tricks and everything.” …and had the soreness all over to show for it.

  “Shit. In that case, ol’ boy probably thinks your little ass is too damn freaky,” Khalid replied with another laugh, the fact that he could find anything about this funny only annoying me even more.

  Instead of sitting around just to be the butt of his jokes, I stood up from my seat, running my hands against my dress to smooth it out as I decided, “I’m gonna go say something.”

  Khalid stood up to join me, though his mission was a little different when he added, “And I’m gonna go get my damn woman back from whoever this Stevelle nigga is.”

  “Stevie, fool,” I corrected, though that was probably the smallest thing wrong compared to the other part of what he had said.

  But my correction didn’t matter anyway once he replied, “More like, Stev-get the fuck outta my way, playboy.” Before taking off towards the room my mother and her little friend had magically rejoined everyone else in.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have the capacity to investigate their little situation, too caught up in my own drama as he just so happened to walk his fine ass back through the kitchen. And he was getting ready to blow past me once again until I stopped him with a hand against his chest.

  My voice was low, trying not to draw too much attention when I said, “Hey. You good?”

  He peeked down at my hand before peeking back up at my face to shrug. “I’m chillin’. What’s up?”

  “Yeah, what’s up Londyn,” I thought, quickly realizing that not coming into this conversation with any sort of plan was a terrible idea. Still, I tried to play it cool, dropping my hand to my side as I pushed out, “Nothin’. I guess I was just… making sure we were good.”

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” he asked, his piqued eyebrow enough to have me wondering had I only imagined his cold shoulder.

  But then Khalid’s laugh of a reaction played in my head, giving me the confidence to respond, “You didn’t speak when you came in.”

  “Yeah, cause you were occupied.”

  “Occupied?” I asked with an awkward laugh. “I was literally just sitting there talking to my friend.”

  “Oh, so he’s your friend, huh? I’d hate to be him,” he replied, moving past me again towards what was left of the food.

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, leaning against the countertop nearby as I watched him throw together a plate.

  He didn’t stop assembling it to answer, “I’m sayin’, if I was feelin’ somebody, I’d hate to find out she was all over somebody else just the night before and was referring to me as just a friend.”

  My face scrunched when I repeated, “Feelin’ somebody? Khalid is not… wait. Are you jealous?”

  Instead of answering my question, he dug in his pocket, then stuffed the key ring I had left him in my hand. “Here’s your key, Londyn.”

  “Oh my gosh, you are jealous,” I said with a laugh, tickled to no end since I had been the one pressed about the whole situation just moments before.

  Little did I know, I was far from alone. Though Chance still tried to play it off when he insisted, “Man, ain’t nobody jealous. I got what I wanted and you got yours too. If anything, I feel bad for the kid cause he definitely won’t be able to measure up whenever he gets his chance.”

  His arrogance had me hot all over again, ready to blow this joint the same way we had done the night before. But since being too anxious - too eager - hadn’t done anything other than stress me out for no good reason, I decided to play right into his little theory, sidling up next to him to reply, “You’re so convinced he’s after me when he could’ve very well been before you…”

  “What?” he asked, the tightening in his jawline enough to let me know I had hit a nerve.

  And with that, I took a page from his book, changing the subject as I patted a hand against his shoulder and said, “Thanks for bringing my key, Chance.” Before leaving the kitchen for good.

  &

  “So you ready to tell me what happened between you and Ellen’s boy last night, or you think I forgot?”

  My mother and I were supposed to be doing a last check of the Airbnb, making sure we got all of our things out, making sure we didn’t leave any damages and hiding the spots that we did. But instead, she was watching me do everything by myself while she grilled me about Chance.

  At least, she called herself trying, to which I replied, “Forgot what?”

  “Little girl, don’t you play with me. I sent you home in the hands of a good lookin’ young man expecting a story to come out of it. So spill it,” she demanded, leaning against the door frame of one of the bedrooms while I checked the corners and crevices.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to look at her, hyperfocused on the task at hand of checking under one of the beds when I lied, “There’s nothing to tell. Chance was a complete gentleman.”

  “Well true complete gentlemen deliver complete orgasms.”

  “Mama!” I screeched, snapping my head up only to find her snickering at my reaction.

  Then she shrugged, stepping deeper into the room to reply, “I’m just saying. He looks… healthy. Strong. Virile. And I know you didn’t fall too far from the tree.”

  “Is that your way of saying you played Mrs. Officer with Stevie last night?” I asked with a snicker of my own when I pulled out a pair of handcuffs that were tucked underneath the mattress. Something that might’ve grossed me out if they hadn’t come at the perfect time to take the attention off of me and put it on her.

  But I shouldn’t have been surprised when she easily brushed off any possible embarrassment, snatching them from my hand as she repeated, “Mrs. Officer? Girl, I was the officer, the sheriff, the chief, the detective…”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You had a good time.”

  She nodded, emphasizing, “I had a great time. Stevie just makes me feel so… young again.”

  There was a glow about her smile that I hadn’t seen since… well, the last guy she called herself getting busy with. And while I was tempted to ask if she was at least serious about this one, I instead focused on the other part of her statement to insist, “You’re not even that old.”

  “Oh, but I am. Just because I give you young girls a run for your money doesn’t mean I haven’t been on this earth for double the time with two grown ass children to show for it,” she replied, making me smile since I was certainly proud to be one of her grown ass children.

  Sure, my mother had her fun, lived her life to the fullest, and maybe made so
me questionable decisions along the way. But she was a damn good mom; my biggest fan, my loudest cheerleader, the one who made sure I had everything I needed and more growing up, even without always having the full support from my dad or Eric’s. And so, if Officer Stevie was responsible for her glow, I had no problem going along with it.

  For now.

  “Well, if he makes you happy, I’m happy for you,” I told her, abandoning the bedroom to check the next.

  She was right on my heels when she added, “And if Chance didn’t make you happy last night, you let me know so I won’t invite him or his cheapskate mama to any more of my events. You know that woman had the nerve to take a whole pan of sausage home with her today? Talkin’ about she was going to take it down to the homeless shelter so it wouldn’t go to waste. Oh, it’s going to a waist alright. Hers.”

  A laugh slipped out before I could contain it, though I was still sure to ask, “Mama, I thought you liked Miss. Ellen?”

  “Oh, I love her like a sister. I just wish she’d stop being so frugal all the time like Chuck didn’t leave her a nice lump sum when he passed away.”

  “A nice lump sum was the least he could do…” I muttered, the stories about Chance’s father from back in the day enough to scar the heart of anyone who knew.

  Simply put, I strongly hoped Chance had fallen as far as possible from that tree.

  Of course my mother didn’t indulge me, snapping her fingers as she replied, “Nu uh. Grown folks’ business.”

  Once again, I could only laugh, quick to remind her, “You just called me grown a minute ago, and now I can’t speak on it? You wanna be all in me and Chance’s business, but I can’t be in y’all’s? I mean, you really think I just plugged my ears over the years every time it was brought up that he was...”

  “Mama, you’re viral!”

  “What?” we both asked at once, watching as Eric jogged into the room with his phone in his hand before he explained, “Auntie Sheri’s video has been shared all over the internet! Black Twitter is havin’ a field day!”

  While I took the phone to see… thousands of retweets already? Seriously? My mother asked, “Black Twitter? What the hell is a, Black Twitter? I thought it was only on Facebook Live.”

  He nodded, giving her the most basic tutorial on social media when he answered, “It was, but someone ripped the footage to share it everywhere else.”

  The more I scrolled, the crazier the tweets seemed to get, my eyes wide as I started reading them out loud.

  “OMG! This is sooo gonna be me in a few years! Hashtag Auntie Goals.”

  “How she twerk better than me though? Hashtag dead.”

  “Yoooo, whose mom is this?! I wanna be her friend in real life!”

  “I need me a mature ratchet bae like this.”

  That one made my mother gasp, a hand to her chest as she said, “Mature?”

  “Weren’t you just in here talking about how old you felt?” I reminded her, going back to the tweets that all seemed to carry the same general tone - they were impressed with my mother’s ability to shake her ass.

  But of course she didn’t see it that way, too caught up on someone acknowledging her age - even in a mostly-complimentary fashion - when she insisted, “That’s for me to say, not these… strangers.”

  “Wait. Even Zalayah retweeted this?!” I asked, checking to make sure the account was verified before reading the tweet out loud.

  “Someone find her for me. I need this choreography in my show ASAP.”

  “Real superstars recognize other superstars,” my mother said with a shrug and a smirk, making Eric and I both laugh as I handed Eric his phone back.

  He was back to scrolling the same way I had, his eyes glowing with amusement as he replied, “You’re like… legit internet famous, ma. For twerkin’ in a snow bunny pajama onesie. This is wild.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more, especially since I had just learned about the video earlier today and now it was already in the face of millions. But my mother seemed unfazed, giving a wave of her hand as she led us back downstairs. “Ahh, these things happen then they blow right on over. I’m sure they’ll be moved onto someone else come morning.”

  “Or... you’ll be even more famous and they’ll be inviting you to come do twerk tutorials on TV,” I teased, already imagining the daytime talk show tour all viral folks seemed to get when there wasn’t shit else to talk about.

  Though, being who my mother was, I was hardly surprised when she replied, “The only way I’d ever do that is if it’s a show on WAWG. Not one of these… other networks. Lord knows I’d hate to be responsible for white women thinking they suddenly know how to dance.”

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to die of laughter from her shade or be proud of the fact that she was only taking her talents to the black-owned network, We All We Got. But I only had a quick chance to do both once I heard Eric say, “Well Nubia Perry, owner of the network, just retweeted the video so…”

  “Nubia Perry?! You know that’s my girl!” my mother squealed with excitement, snatching Eric’s phone to see it for herself. And while I wasn’t sure what having a viral star for a mother would mean in the long run, I was glad she had stolen the show, allowing the whole “Chance” thing to slip from her mind with ease.

  Chance

  A fresh start was exactly what I needed.

  After the crazy events of the weekend - getting into town, being whisked to Miss. Annie’s party by my mother, leaving Miss. Annie’s crazy party to hook up with my best friend’s little sister, letting her ruin my damn life in the best way possible just like she said she would, waking up to her empty house and a note teasing me about what she had done, then finding her at brunch getting kissed on by some other dude -, I was more than happy to be back in my element at work, even if the environment was completely different than what I was used to.

  But at least behind the computer, I knew what I was doing, I felt like myself, I felt… in control. Because of all the things that had transpired between Londyn and I over the weekend, that was the one thing that left me completely unsettled. The fact that no matter what I did, no matter how I called myself taking charge of the situation, she continuously found a way to get the upperhand, doing things that kept me on edge when I wasn’t even supposed to be checkin’ for her like that.

  I mean, it shouldn’t have been anything for me to leave her place after getting my rocks off since that was usually the move anyway. But her being the one to try and kick me out was what had me challenging her for more, pleading my case as to why she should let me stay when it should’ve been the other way around - her begging me for more. I shouldn’t have even cared that she had a little dude chasing after her at brunch since it wasn’t any of my business and she obviously wasn’t feeling him enough to stop me. But for whatever reason, I was bothered seeing her parade him in front of the family - parade him in front of me - as if I hadn’t been the one bringing that same smile to her face just the night before.

  And then for her to poke fun at a jealousy I didn’t even recognize myself?

  That’s how I really knew I was buggin’, especially since it was her of all people who had brought it out of me. I mean, this was Londyn; a familiar face, someone I had grown up with, someone I should’ve been… immune to. But it also shouldn’t have taken long for me to realize that was the furthest thing from the truth, particularly after she did that thing with her tongue I couldn’t erase from my memory if I wanted to.

  Between that and the flexibility she hadn’t lost since her cheerleader days, I would’ve been lying if I didn’t admit wanting to do it all over again; wanting to explore her in new ways time hadn’t allowed the other night. But since that wasn’t a real option without losing my damn dignity - and maybe a best friend - in the process, I knew I had to chill; stay focused on what I was here for and get back out of town before I got myself caught up in a situation I didn’t belong.

  Of course that didn’t mean things would go as easily as planned, the
presence of the devil lurking the second I stepped foot in the cafeteria the entire building shared for lunch. And while the possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind before, I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Londyn there, sharing a booth with a few of the guys I had met earlier that day.

  Many questions came to mind; mainly how us working in the same building hadn’t ever come up. But I quickly found myself enthralled by her presence the same way the entire table seemed to be, hanging onto words I couldn’t even hear from afar just because they looked so good falling from her lips.

  Damn.

  As if she could feel me watching her, her eyes flashed in my direction, a sneaky little grin growing on her face once she recognized it was me before she quickly returned to the conversation she was having. And though I wasn’t sure what to make of the look, I knew it was best if I minded my own business, ignoring it to grab some food before finding a seat clear across the cafeteria.

  Even with the distance, I still found myself watching her, observing the way she commanded the table like it was her boardroom and she was the boss, noting the way each guy seemed to be taking turns trying to outdo the other to get her attention. And I was especially attentive when she stood up to leave the table, peeping how all of their eyes went straight to her ass the second she started walking away before they huddled in closer to discuss it.

  But I was so focused on them that I hadn’t even realized she was, in fact, heading in my direction, my eyes immediately falling to my sandwich until she asked, “Having trouble making friends?”

  I shrugged, peeking up at her with a sarcastic smile to answer, “Nah. I just enjoy my solitude.”

  She smiled back, a smug one, sliding into the chair opposite of mine as I went back to my sandwich and tried to act as nonchalant about her presence as she had mine. But just when I thought I had a handle on this whole thing, she somehow managed to pull the rug right from up under me when she replied, “Me too. Especially in the mornings. It’s truly amazing what a showerhead at just the right pressure can do.”

 

‹ Prev