Real Love

by Alexandria House

  “Because men have disappointed you in the past?”

  I looked up at him and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Okay…my name is Hasaan. That’s Hasaan with two a’s instead of two s’s—Hasaan Ishmael Peterson. The people closest to me call me H. I’m thirty-four years old, and I was born in Ludlow, Mississippi, to Bettina and William Peterson. I have one brother and no sisters. I moved to Dallas when I was fifteen. Played football in high school and college. I’m five feet, eleven and a half inches tall, and I weigh two hundred and fifty pounds. I work two jobs, including working at this place that I happen to own, thanks to you. I drive a black Chevy Silverado pickup truck. I like old school soul music and I happen to also like you. I like you a lot, Denise, so when you start letting your mind roll back to those other guys and whatever games they played with you like letting you ride around on bald-ass tires and get a flat and then blowing up your phone while I changed the damn tire, remember, I’m not them. I’m H, and I’m a grown-ass man who doesn’t play games. I don’t wanna just screw you, I wanna damn relationship with you.”

  “Shit, okay. Um…yes, sir.”

  “So, we clear now?” he asked.

  “Crystal.”

  “Good.”

  The room was quiet for a few minutes, and then I softly said, “Can we have sex now?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  23

  He picked me up around eight on that Saturday night, a couple of days after he made his intentions clear. Dressed in blue slacks and a white dress shirt, he came to my door with a smile on his face.

  As I let him into my living room, he said, “You know, you live really close to me.”

  I raised my eyebrows in fake surprise. “Really? Where do you live?”

  “Just around the corner in the Fountain Crest Apartments.”

  “Wow, that’s crazy.”

  He chuckled. “Your friend already told you, didn’t she? Nyles Adams’ wife?”

  Dang, was I that bad of an actress? “Actually, she did. So, you knew they were setting us up with that whole Club Plush thing and you didn’t tell me?”

  “They asked me not to, said you wouldn’t show up if you knew what they were up to.”

  I shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t have, but I’m glad I did. I really enjoyed that evening.”

  “Was that evening what made you change your mind about us?”

  I nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “Then I’ll have to thank your friends again for setting it up.”

  We left and ended up at Delta’s Place, a nice restaurant that featured soul food and live entertainment. It was the same place he mentioned having seen Nyles perform at. On this evening, the entertainment was a local cover band who were doing a great job covering a Gap Band tune. He pulled out my seat for me and then took his. I glanced around the dim room crowded with people surrounding tables and swaying in their seats to the music, then I shifted my focus to Hasaan who was staring at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. You just look so beautiful, but then again, you always do.”

  “Thank you. You look amazing, but then again, you always do, too.”

  Right then, the waiter arrived to take our drink orders and supply us with menus. After he left, Hasaan said, “I always have the shrimp and grits. They’re the best in the world.”

  “Hmm, you must not have had my mom’s,” I replied, my eyes glued to the menu. “I think I’ll have the fried catfish platter. If it’s good, I’ll tell Trevia about it. She loves catfish.”

  He reclined in his chair. “Y’all are close, huh?”

  I closed the menu and looked up at him. “Like sisters. We’ve known each other since high school. We’ve always had each other’s backs.”

  He smiled. “Good friends are what makes life worthwhile. Good friends, good food, and good love.”

  “Hmm, yeah.”

  “So tell me about Denise.”

  “Okay. Well, I graduated from Prairie View with a degree in finance, worked at that bank for seven years before they fired me, um…my favorite color is red, and my favorite restaurant is Ms. Jenny’s.”

  “Shiiiiid, mine, too!”

  I laughed.

  “What about your family? I’ve met your mom. Are you close to your dad? Any brothers and sisters?”

  I sighed.

  “Oh...is your family a sensitive subject?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

  “Kind of. Well, my dad is deceased. He passed when I was a kid.”

  “I’m sorry, Denise.”

  “It’s okay. He wasn’t much of a father anyway. See, my mom was originally his much-younger mistress of several years until he decided to leave his wife, whom he had been married to longer than my mom had even been alive. I was born the second year of their marriage, but my mom failed to realize that him marrying her left the side-chick position vacant, and soon, he started staying out all night running in behind a younger version of my mother. So, he was never really around. I just saw him in passing. He dropped dead from a heart attack in bed at the other woman’s house when I was like ten.”

  “Damn.”

  “I know, right? So anyway, he and wife number one had like six kids who are all around my mom’s age, and well, they hate me and my mom. I have one sister who’ll call to let me know when someone on that side of the family dies, as if I’m morbid enough to go to the funeral of someone I’ve never even met, but other than that, they have nothing to do with me.”

  “Wow...I’m sorry about all that.”

  I shrugged. “It’s all right. My mom is a witch, but I’m her only child and she took decent care of me. She’s damn near seventy and still messing around with a married man. She’s just vowed to never get married again.”

  He just sat there and shook his head.

  “And you know what? I have Trevia and Greer and a host of cousins. I don’t need my siblings. I decided a long time ago if they were dumb enough to dislike me for something my parents did and not me, then they don’t deserve to have me in their lives, and I damn sure ain’t gonna beg them to accept me. Hell, it’s their loss, not mine.”

  “I know that’s right, baby.”

  “So that’s the dark side of my life. On a better note, I’m a great person, I’ve never slept with anyone’s husband, and I can cook a mean lasagna.”

  He grinned. “Phew, I was wondering if you could cook.”

  I gave him a smirk. “Yes, I can. Now I ain’t got nothing on my mother, but I can keep you fed.”

  “Mm, and you can damn sure keep me satisfied.”

  Heat seemed to seep into my pores and settle at my core. “Don’t do that. I didn’t eat lunch and saved up my hunger for this meal, but if you keep talking like that, we’re gonna have to leave.”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, licking his lips. “You hot now?”

  I nodded, my eyes glued to his.

  “How hot?”

  “Very hot. Extremely hot.”

  “You wanna leave? Say fuck it and go get busy?”

  “After all that fuck-buddy mess you talked? Hell, no. I might make you sit here and talk to me until they close this place.”

  He laughed. “But look at you. Look what you’ve got on. It’s distracting.”

  I glanced down at the little red dress I’d squeezed my chunky butt into. It was a size eighteen, and I normally wore a size twenty. But they didn’t have my size and I had to have the dress. I made it work and judging by his reaction, it was a good buy. Besides, I knew I looked hot in it. “What would you have preferred I’d worn? A moo-moo?”

  “Hell, no. I’m just saying...”

  The waiter finally came back to take our orders, and after he left, I decided to shift the conversation. “So I remember you telling me you had three jobs during our meeting at the bank. Then you said you had two. You quit one?”

  “Yeah...I used to work at a factory at night, the roadside service on weekends, and I did tattoos out of a
friend’s shop in the day time. I quit the factory once I got my shop up and running.”

  “Wow, when did you sleep?”

  He shrugged. “When I could.”

  “So you still do the roadside service thing?”

  “From time to time. I’m basically just on-call, extra help now. They haven’t needed me in a while.”

  “Hmm, where’d you go to college?”

  “Is this an interrogation?”

  “You asked me about myself first. I can’t ask you?”

  “Okay, I hear you. I went to Paul Quinn. Played football for them back when they had a team. Never graduated, though.”

  “You dropped out?”

  “You could say that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Remember I told you at the bank how I messed up my credit when I was younger?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I messed up my education, too. Didn’t half go to class or do my work, ended up flunking out. Spent the next few years hopping from job to job and trying to figure myself out. I made a lot of mistakes, but I’m a much better man now.”

  “I can tell. Now, your brother? He is a piece of work.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, he’s basically me at that age.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Wow, he acts like he’s seventeen. I know you say you were like him when you were younger, but the only similarities I see in you two now are your looks. You could pass for twins.”

  “Yeah...”

  Something told me his brother was a sensitive subject, so I was glad to see the waiter approaching us with our food.

  After we began eating, I shifted the conversation again. “So, have you known Lola and Quan long?” I asked, referring to the two full-time tattoo artists who worked out of his shop.

  He nodded. “I met Quan a few years back. We both apprenticed under this guy named Hez Harris. Me and Lola go all the way back to high school.”

  “Really? You ever slept with her?”

  He looked up at me and laughed. “That’s what you really wanted to ask all along, isn’t it?”

  I shrugged. “Well...yeah.”

  “No. Lola likes white dudes. Always has. She lives with one.”

  “That the only reason?” I asked.

  “And her ass is flat. What am I supposed to do with a flat ass, Denise?”

  “So, you’ve never been attracted to her?”

  “Nah. She’s like one of the guys to me. I ain’t attracted to none of my guy friends neither, in case you were wondering. But I am most definitely attracted to you. That body of yours oughta be illegal in at least fifty-three states.”

  “There are only fifty states, Hasaan.”

  “I know. Those curves of yours are just wrong. And what’s between your legs? Damn!”

  “We don’t even wanna start talking about what’s between your legs. You’re packing some major weight down there, sir. MAJOR.”

  We stared at each other for a moment.

  “Shit, we tried. I mean, it was a nice date, but I’m as hard as quantum physics right now,” Hasaan said.

  “Hell, I’m as wet as Niagara Falls.”

  Without hesitation, he raised his hand and shouted, “Check, please!”

  24

  The text message alert beeped on my phone as I sat at my station listening to Rafiq rehash his wild weekend. I really didn’t care what he’d gotten into, I was just glad it’d been weeks since he’d called waking me up out of my sleep to rescue him. I looked down at my phone and smiled when I saw that the message was from Denise.

  Denise: Hey.

  Me: Hey, baby. What u up to over there?

  Denise: Bored and missing u. No clients today. What u doing?

  Me: Not shit. Sitting here listening to Rafiq lie.

  Denise: LOL!!! How u know he’s lying?

  Me: His mouth is moving.

  Denise: LMFAO!! U crazy!

  Me: I know. What u doing for lunch?

  Denise: I was hoping to do you.

  Me: Don’t play with me. U keep on and I’ma come over there.

  Denise: Come on.

  Me: On my way. I’ll grab us something from your mom’s place and be there in a sec.

  Denise: K

  I stood and slid my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.

  Rafiq, who was still talking, finally stopped for a second and frowned. “Where you going?”

  “Damn, I gotta check in with you now? Who are you supposed to be? Mama?”

  “Nah, but shit, we were just in the middle of a conversation.”

  “He ain’t got time for your lying ass, Rafiq. You didn’t see him texting while you were talking? I bet you twenty dollars he’s headed across that street.” Lola said.

  Rafiq looked at me and gave me a smirk. “You going to see her again? Y’all be together all the time now. You gonna marry her or something?”

  I shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind marrying her eventually.”

  “So, it’s like that?”

  “Yeah...I like her. A lot.”

  Rafiq just looked at me.

  “What? I can’t like her?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just surprised. You been dodging relationships forever.”

  “I haven’t been dodging anything. Just been waiting for the right woman to come along. I finally found her.”

  “All right...well, congratulations, I guess.”

  “You salty, little bro?” I asked, patting him on the shoulder. “I told you you didn’t stand a chance with her. Like I said, she’s a grown woman and I’m a grown man. No surprise she’s with me.”

  As I headed out the front door, he said, “Man, fuck you, H.”

  *****

  Twenty minutes later, I was crossing the street, making my way to the office of the short, thick woman who made my heart race. I knocked, and not getting an answer, tried pushing the door open to find she’d left it unlocked for me. “Hey, baby? Where are you?” I called to her once inside.

  “Breakroom!” she replied. “Lock the front door for me.”

  “A’ight.”

  The place was dark, but I could see a light on in the back, probably coming from the breakroom. I locked the door, and as I made my way to her, said, “Hey, it was between meatloaf and smoked turkey legs, so I got the turkey legs.”

  “That’s fine,” she said, as I entered the breakroom and damn near dropped the sack of food I was holding.

  “Shit...” I murmured.

  There she was, sitting on the breakroom table, naked, with those thick thighs spread open for me. I set the sack on the floor beside me and rubbed my hand over my groin. She had me standing at attention just that fast. “What you doing, baby?” I asked, as I stared at her and unbuttoned my pants.

  “Oh, I just thought I’d set the table for you. I know you must be starving.”

  I dropped my pants and underwear and stepped out of them. “I’m so damn hungry; I’m about to pass out.”

  “You wanna start with an appetizer or get right to the main course?” she asked, leaning back on her elbows and staring at my erection.

  “I think I want an appetizer first.”

  I grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the table, bent over and flicked my tongue over her clit, then I looked up, and said, “You taste so good, I think I want some more.”

  She moaned in response.

  I dragged my tongue over her pearl over and over again, slipping a finger inside of her and trying not to smile when she grabbed the back of my head and whispered my name. I pulled her clit into my mouth, sucked on it like it was a damn Jolly Rancher for a solid minute, and thought she was going to rip my hair out of my head when that orgasm hit her.

  Then I stood up, took a finger and stroked her, making her jerk again. “Damn, baby…you got this table all wet.”

  “It’s...your...fault,” she said between breaths.

  I gripped her thighs again, and said, “H
mm, maybe it is.” I bent over and invaded her mouth with mine. Coming up for air, I asked, “Now that I got you nice and wet, you ready for me, baby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sure? You ain’t gon’ be hollering and shit when I start giving it to you, are you?”

  She sat up and grabbed my erection. As she stroked it, she said, “Uh-uh. I’ma be real quiet.”

  I moved her hand. “Lie back, baby.”

  She lay back and I grabbed her legs, putting them on my shoulders. As I eased inside of her, she screamed, “H!”

  “I thought you were gonna be quiet,” I said, as I slid in and out of her. Shit, she was so wet!

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” she screamed. “It’s so big, baby!”

  “I know, baby…and you are so damn tight!”

  I leaned in and sucked on her neck as I continued thrusting, giving her all of me.

  “H! Shit, H!”

  “Shh, baby,” I whispered, but I knew she wouldn’t stop screaming even though there were businesses on both sides of hers. And well, I didn’t want her to stop. She knew that, too. By the time I exploded, our food was cold.

  “You’re gonna get me kicked out of here,” she said, as I helped her down from the table.

  “I told you to be quiet.”

  25

  “Hey, girl! What are you up to?”

  I smiled as I glanced down at Trevia’s face on my phone. “Cooking for Hasaan.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Where you at? His place or yours? I can’t tell.”

  I picked my phone up from the kitchen counter and set it on the table, taking a seat as Trevia and I continued our FaceTime conversation. “His.”

  “Where is he?”

  “At the tattoo shop. I don’t work on Saturdays. That was one of the first decisions I made when I decided to start my own business. The bank took enough of my Saturdays from me.”

  “You work Sundays?”

  “Nope.”

  “Good for you. So how is your business going?”

  “It’s going really well. There truly was a need for what I’m doing. It’s like there was a hole that I’m filling up for people. I love it!”