Real Love

Home > Romance > Real Love > Page 7
Real Love Page 7

by Alexandria House


  “I know, but you’re also a distraction, a very attractive distraction.”

  He lifted his left eyebrow. “You think I’m attractive?”

  “You know you are.”

  He shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  “You just want me to say it, but I’m not.”

  “Say what?”

  “That you’re finer than a motherfucker.”

  “I thought you weren’t gonna say it.”

  We both laughed.

  “If you give me a chance, I promise not to disrupt what you’re doing here. I’m tryna run a business, too, so I understand where you’re coming from,” he explained.

  “I’ve got a past,” I blurted, but somehow my words came out wrong.

  He frowned. “You used to do porn or something?”

  “No.”

  “Shit, you got AIDS?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I was married before. A few years back. And I just broke up with someone.”

  “So, you’re saying you’re not ready to date yet?”

  “Basically, yeah. I just have a lot going on right now. I’m really trying to focus on this business.”

  He sighed. “Okay...I won’t push you. Just know that when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Really? For how long?”

  “As long as it takes. I think that ass of yours will be worth it.”

  18

  I rolled over in bed, trying to figure out what woke me up. I’d worked late at the shop, trying to finish up a sleeve I was working on for one of my clients who had been with me since I was apprenticing under Hez, my mentor. It was a lot of detail work, and my eyes were tired as hell, so I really needed the sleep.

  I turned over to see my phone lit up in the bed next to me and a missed call displayed on the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, but had a good idea why whoever was calling was calling. I grabbed the phone and called the number back, closing my tired eyes as the line rang in my ear.

  “Luvelle’s Bar and Grill, Alexis speaking,” a voice answered.

  “Yeah, I just missed a call from there like a second ago.”

  “Oh…hold on.”

  A few seconds later, a male voice said, “Is this Hasaan Peterson?”

  “Yeah…who’s this?”

  “This is Fred Walker, the manager here at Luvelle’s. I’m calling regarding your brother, um…Rafiq Peterson?”

  Shit, I knew it. “What’d he do? Get in a fight?”

  “Actually, yes. Look, I’m not into getting my fellow brothers locked up, but he’s drunk and belligerent right now. Can you come get him? Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to call the police.”

  “No, don’t do that. I’m on my way.”

  Forty minutes later, my drunk, headache of a brother was slumped in the passenger seat of my Chevy Silverado pickup with his eyes shut. I glanced at him and tried not to reach over and smack his dumb ass on the back of the head. I swear, he stayed doing the stupidest shit.

  “Why you looking at me like that?” he slurred.

  “I’m tryna figure out if you were born this damn stupid, or if it’s a learned behavior, because you have cornered the market on being an idiot.”

  He lifted his head. “So, your ass ain’t never been drunk or got in a fight?”

  “I ain’t never gotten drunk, and got in a fight over some dumb shit. All the single women in this city, and you wanna go around approaching folks’ wives and girlfriends?”

  “I didn’t know she was taken. She was sitting there by herself and shit. How was I supposed to know she was waiting on somebody?”

  “Did you ask?”

  He shrugged.

  “When you approached her, did she tell you she was waiting on someone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you didn’t leave her alone?”

  “Look, H, she said she was waiting on her man, and I said, ‘Bet,’ and was getting up to leave when her dude walked up talking shit to me. Now, you know I wasn’t gonna let him disrespect me, so I dotted that nigga’s eye. Problem is, he was short but strong as hell, and he got in some shots, too. Fucked my jaw up,” he said, rubbing his cheek.

  “What you should’ve done was walk your ass away. You’re lucky the manager called me instead of the cops. You gave him my number?”

  “Yeah…” He reached over and patted my arm. “I told him my big bro would have my back.”

  As I pulled into the driveway of our parents’ house, where Rafiq still lived, I said, “I always do.”

  19

  I started to let the phone ring, but wouldn’t have put it past Greer to show up at my office with the police. “Hey,” I said after I accepted her call.

  “Oh, so your ass is still alive, because I was really beginning to wonder,” Greer replied.

  “I’m good, just been busy trying to get this business off the ground.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Great. It’s really keeping me busy, but I’m loving helping these people. Girl, I almost have enough clients to hire an assistant.”

  “Wow! I’m so proud of you, ’Nise. You really turned things around.”

  “Yeah, so how is baby girl?”

  “Growing like crazy. I think she’s gonna be tall like her daddy.”

  “I miss her.”

  “Come see her, then! Come hang with us this weekend. We can ride to Nyles’ show at Plush together.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know he was performing there again this weekend.”

  “Yeah, it’s your last chance to see him in Texas for a while. He’s doing a nationwide tour starting the beginning of next month. Derek and I were gonna get a sitter and go and hang with them since you know Trevia is gonna be traveling with him.”

  “Oh…”

  “Look, Trevia told me what you said about being a fifth wheel.”

  “Figures.”

  “But you know that’s not the case. You’re our sister, and we need to see Trevia off. Both of us. Will you come? Pleeeeeeease?”

  I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll be there.”

  *****

  Trevia’s sister, Jayla, and her soon-to-be ex-husband had opened Plush nearly two years earlier, and from the looks of things, Jayla wasn’t letting her impending divorce affect her business. The place was just as packed as it was every time I’d been there, and I had to admit it felt good to be hanging with my girls, even if they both had their men with them and I didn’t have one at all. It just felt good to be able to kick it. I had gone from full-time employment, to unemployment, to self-employment without so much as a weekend vacation. And shit, I was a millionaire. I deserved to drink and act a fool for once.

  Trevia headed backstage with Nyles while I followed Greer and Derek to the VIP area. I took in the gorgeous interior of the night club as we ascended the stairs, thinking to myself how I was looking forward to watching Nyles perform. He definitely had a way with words. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts, I didn’t notice that Greer and Derek had stopped at a table.

  “Girl, where you going?” Greer shouted over the Erykah Badu tune that was playing.

  I spun on my heels, shaking my head as I walked back to the table she and Derek were already seated at that my ass had just passed by. I stopped dead in my tracks and my mouth dropped open when I saw Hasaan sitting across from them.

  “W-what are you doing here?” I stammered, my heart throttling my rib cage. I glanced down at the black jumpsuit that hugged every curve of my body and rubbed a hand over the brand new, wavy sew-in weave that cascaded down my back. If it wouldn’t have been ridiculous, I would’ve pulled out my compact and attempted to check my make-up in the dim lighting of the club. I needed to make sure I was on point, because he damn sure was! He looked so good it just wasn’t fair!

  “Waiting for you,” he replied with a smile.

  20

  He stood to pull a chair out for me, and I fell into it and stared open-mouthed at him as he reclaimed his seat—black slacks, white dr
ess shirt unbuttoned at the neck, black blazer, handsome face, those broad-ass shoulders. Shit! “How...I mean, what-who—”

  “Trevia and I invited him over the phone the other day. We called his shop,” Greer offered. “And after he graciously accepted our invitation, Trevia gave him a VIP ticket.”

  I shifted my open-mouthed focus to my friend. Any other time, I probably would’ve dragged Greer backstage to find Trevia and cursed both of their asses out for setting me up like this, but I was honestly so shocked...and excited, all I could do was say, “I’m...wow. Okay, um...I really don’t know what to say.”

  “‘Hi, Hasaan,’ would be nice. ‘It’s good to see you,’ would be even better,” he said with a grin.

  I shook my head in an attempt to regain my composure. “I’m sorry. It really is good to see you. You look...nice.”

  “Well, you look gorgeous. I mean, damn!”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a coordinated-in black-and-white-outfits Greer and Derek rise from their seats. “We’re going to hit the dancefloor before Nyles hits the stage. Be right back,” Greer said.

  And the setup continues, I thought. But shit, I wasn’t mad. I couldn’t think of a better surprise than his fine ass being there.

  “I’m glad you came,” I admitted once we were alone at the table.

  “Are you really, because you looked pretty surprised to see me. Shit, you actually looked shocked.”

  “I was surprised and a little shocked, but not in a bad way.”

  He leaned back in his chair. He was such a big, imposing man, but his smile was so warm and sexy. His lips were so—

  “Denise? Did you hear me?” he asked.

  He was so damn fine, I was literally losing my mind. It didn’t even register with me that the man’s mouth was moving and that there were words coming out of it. “Uh...no. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about something. What’d you say?”

  “I said it’s nice to see that you’re not all business.”

  “Oh, of course I’m not.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?” I asked with a slight frown.

  “Well, that was the impression you gave me over lunch the other day. That’s why you put me on hold, right? Because of your business?”

  “That wasn’t the only reason.”

  “Oh, yeah. It was because of your checkered past, too,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

  I gave him a smirk. “You know, you sound really salty right now.”

  “Shit, I am. I’m salty and I’m thirsty as hell, too.”

  “Order a drink, then.”

  “The only thing I’m thirsty for is your little fine ass, Denise.”

  By then, Greer and Derek were just making it back to the table, and Jayla was onstage introducing Nyles. I was glad our conversation was interrupted, because I was exactly two seconds from screwing him right there at that table in front of every-damn-body.

  Nyles was great, not that that was surprising. As usual, he dedicated nearly every poem to Trevia, who was most likely watching him from the side of the stage. His love for her radiated from him, and I wondered what it felt like for a man to adore you the way he did her. I wondered the same thing about Derek, who had one arm draped around Greer’s shoulders with his free hand clasping hers on the table. My friends had both found such wonderful men, wonderful and as different as night and day, but each man seemed to be tailor made for them.

  Kevin and I were good for a while, but all these years later I could admit we shared more lust than love. I wanted to be with him because he was good in bed, not because he loved, supported, or protected me, because he never did any of those things. As a matter of fact, he left me bare naked and vulnerable in many ways. And Christian? I think maybe he cared about me and was probably on his way to loving me, but the feelings weren’t there on my end. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have broken up with him after all. But then there was Hasaan, a man I was undeniably attracted to, a man I shared a bit of a connection with.

  Yeah, I wanted him.

  I really, really, really wanted him.

  But I was pretty sure this was a lust thing, too. Did I really need to go there again? I mean, I was in such a good place in my life financially and business-wise, and I had peace of mind without the drama that seemed to accompany all of my relationships.

  “Will you dance with me?” Hasaan asked after Nyles’ set was over. I tuned my ears in to the music that was now pouring from the speakers—Maxwell’s …Til the Cops Come Knockin’.

  “Yes,” I said.

  He stood and engulfed my hand with his, leading me down the stairs to the dancefloor full of brown people seemingly melded together, moving to the rhythm of the sensuous song. I stepped into his arms as he folded his wide body around mine and we began to sway to the music. As thick as I was, he dwarfed me. Built like a football player and nearly a full foot taller than me, he made me feel protected. No man had ever made me feel that way before. Not even my own father.

  As he held me tightly, his warm hand on my back, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine him naked, holding me like this in bed. I wondered—

  “You feel just as good as I thought you would,” he murmured.

  “Mm, you feel good, too.”

  “Hmm.”

  Once the song ended and an up-tempo one began to play, I felt like punching the DJ in the throat. I really didn’t want to break my connection with Hasaan. I suppose this was a sentiment he shared with me, because as everyone around us broke apart and began jamming to the unrelenting bassline, he held onto me and continued swaying at the same dragging tempo. We slow-danced through two more fast songs before heading back to the table where Trevia and Nyles soon joined us. We all laughed and talked, and Hasaan seemed to fit right in, holding my hand underneath the table for the remainder of the night.

  *****

  “You’re not mad at us for setting you up?” Greer asked.

  “No.”

  “Really?” Trevia asked.

  “Not at all.”

  They looked at each other for a second, both of them perched on the foot of the bed I occupied in Greer’s guest bedroom.

  “So...you’re not upset about us setting you up tonight?” Trevia parroted Greer’s question.

  “I said I wasn’t.”

  “The hell is wrong with you?” Greer asked after silence filled the room for a few seconds.

  “Nothing. Why something gotta be wrong with me?” I asked.

  “I’m just saying, you don’t wanna call us bitches or something?” Greer queried.

  I sighed. “Do y’all want me to call you bitches?”

  “No, but...” they said almost in unison.

  “Look, I like Hasaan. I was glad to see him tonight.”

  “But he said you’ve been curving him, though,” Trevia said.

  “He told you that?” I asked with a frown.

  “Yeah, when we called him on three-way to invite him to Nyles’ show. We asked about you two, and he said he was really feeling you and he was sure you were feeling him, too, but that you curved him. He sounded a little frustrated,” Greer said.

  “Oh.”

  “That’s all you got to say, ’Nise? ‘Oh?’” Trevia probed.

  I sighed and dropped my eyes from my friends’ faces to the gold comforter covering my legs. “I do like him...”

  “But?” Trevia asked.

  “I was tryna focus on my business, and you know I just broke up or whatever with Christian.”

  “Mm-hmm, but that’s one fine man, Denise. I mean, shit! I love my husband, but girl...how you gonna curve that?” Greer asked.

  “I was wondering the same thing. Big, wide shoulders, and I could see the muscles through his clothes. He looks like he could pick you up, throw you on the bed, and screw your mean ass into submission,” Trevia interjected.

  “I just ended a purely sexual relationship. Maybe I want more than that,” I said.

  “
Shit, maybe he does, too, but you’ll never know if you keep pushing the man away. Look, he isn’t young and childish like Kevin, whom you knew from jump didn’t have anything but a penis to offer you, and he’s not wishy-washy like Christian. You know he likes you, and he’s really nice, and Trevia said he’s neat and clean, too. She saw his apartment when she took him his ticket,” Greer said.

  I looked up at Trevia. “You did?”

  Trevia nodded. “He only stays about five minutes away from you in a studio apartment. He invited me in, and there was no sign of a woman anywhere in case you were wondering. Very masculine decor—leather couch and easy chair. It smelled like that Gonesh Number 8 incense they burned in that weed shop we used to sneak to in high school. The kitchen was clean, floors were spotless, bed was made, and when I asked to use his bathroom, I didn’t see any suspicious medicine in the cabinet, just some Tylenol.”

  “Damn, Sherlocka!” Greer said.

  Trevia shrugged. “You know me.”

  I shook my head. “Y’all are crazy, but thanks for the info. Look, we’ll see where this goes. I’m not saying I’ll never date him, I’m just saying I want to take it slowly and kind of ease into it.”

  “Hmm, this is oddly familiar—one of us running away from a potentially good man with the others encouraging her to take a chance. Remember, I said that same ‘take it slow’ stuff about Nyles, and you see where it got me. Madly in love and happily married,” Trevia said.

  “Mm-hmm,” Greer agreed.

  I didn’t say it, but where she was was right where I wanted to be.

  21

  I was in the back room working on an inner thigh design for a new client. It was the word Ralph’s written in calligraphy—the R-A-L on one thigh and the P-H-’S on the other thigh, the letters essentially framing her private area. According to her, the tattoo was a birthday surprise for Ralph. I had to admit, if my woman came home with my name tatted on her like that, it would definitely be a happy birthday for both of us.

 

‹ Prev