Below The Belt

Round 14

Tyreek's POV

You know when you can just tell that something's different about somebody? Well something's up with DeAndre, and I could bet all my money that I know exactly what it is.

In the past week we've gone on two more dates, one set up by Dre and the other by me. During those dates and even when we were just hanging out, Dre would act different. He seemed nervous anytime he was around me. Openly nervous, not the reserved kind he usually covered with aggression when I flirted with him.

It wasn't until he was laying on my couch with me laying on his chest that it clicked. He was rubbing my waves and staring at the tv, but I could hear his heartbeat occasionally quicken every few minutes like he was thinking about something.

"You did what I said, huh?" I asked, causing his movements to stop. When he didn't answer, I lifted my head to look at him and saw him staring intently at the tv instead of looking at me. That was my answer. "Good job, baby. Why you ain't tell me?"

He finally turned his attention to me and frowned. "Because that shits embarrassing, nigga. The fuck was I supposed to do? Stop you mid-date and tell you I fingered myself just because you asked?"

Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I wanted him to do.

"It's been a whole week since I asked you to do that, baby." I reminded him. "When was you gon' tell me?"

His silence let me know that he was probably never going to tell me. That's alright though. That just means I know my baby well enough to ask.

I put my head back down on his chest and let him continue to watch tv in silence for a few more minutes before I spoke again. "So you can finger yourself when I ask you to but you won't be my boyfriend?"

Again, his heartbeat quickened. That word always seemed to get to him. "I ain't tryna be nobody's boyfriend right now, Ty." He said quietly, though it sounded louder when I was laying right on him.

His words left me silent. I just wanted him to be my nigga officially, but he kept playing with me. "So let me get this straight..." I started as I sat up again. He glanced over at me for a second before looking back at the tv and I chuckled dryly before speaking. "So we're exclusive. I'm not allowed to fuck or even talk to nobody else, you're not allowed to fuck nobody else, and you're preparing to let me fuck you... But you don't want to be mine." I waited for him to answer me, but he just continued to stare at the tv. He only got another minute before I snatched the remote off of the coffee table and turned the tv off. "DeAndre, I'm speaking to you."

That made him finally look at me. He was frowning now, and he sat up a bit so he could face me. "Who the fuck is DeAndre?" He asked with a scowl.

"That's all you heard?" I laughed sarcastically. "Out of everything I just said, all you got out of that was me calling you your actual name?"

"You ain't supposed to call me that." He said, still ignoring my main point.

"What the fuck do you want me to call you then, DeAndre? Huh? What do you want me to call you? I can't call you your name, I can't call you mine, whatchu want me to call you?"

We stared into each other's eyes, both of us frowning for different reasons. I was pissed that he wanted me but didn't want to be with me, and he was upset over a damn name- his name.

"Nigga you know what the fuck I want you to call me." He finally spoke. His nostrils were flaring and his brows were furrowed into a deep frown. "My name ain't DeAndre when you talkin' to me, nigga. It's baby or it's Dre, don't act brand new."

"Nigga I'm actin' brand new? You the one up in my house, cuddling me and shit, taking me on dates, fingering yourself for me, cumming to the thought of me but you can't even look me in my eyes when you lie to me?" To say I was pissed was an understatement. "And you wanna sit in my face talkin' bout a name? Be forreal, DeAn-"