Chapter 10—Duke
“On a scale of 1 to Sharkiesha, how fuckin’ bad do you want me to hit you?” I asked Kyle as I stepped downstairs, my head pounding. The fact that I found him staring into the eyes of my girl, leaning close like he was about to kiss her hadn’t helped. Throw in the fact that she he told her that she was apparently the girl of his dreams pissed me off to no end.
Junior snorted quietly. Yeah, that bitch would. Laughing like she isn’t about to go off and kiss my best friend. After making out with some big ass football player last night. Maybe she had a thing for white boys, and I was way too mixed for her.
Kyle gave me a look. “Depends on how hard you wanna get hit back.”
I could kick my best friend’s ass. And he knew that. Fists clenched, I stepped into the living room. “Kyle—“
Junior held a hand up. “If y’all are gonna fight, let me know so I can post them on youtube and become famous from it. I think this face as Youtube famous potential, don’t you?”
I gave her a look. Her face did have famous potential. Junior was cute, the kind of girl that made you want to protect her, and then throw her down on a bed and do whatever and whenever to her. “Now is not the time, Junior,” I warned.
“It’s always time to tell me I’m pretty, Duke,” she replied, smirking and leaning back against the couch. She tucked her feet underneath her body and looked comfortable as she watched us. “Kyle’s already beat you to the punch.” She gave him a flirty smile.
That’s when it hit me. She was trying to make me jealous. It was working, too. To see her with another guy, and now Kyle…. I wasn’t too happy. But two could play at that game. “Many girls beat you to the punch last night,” I said, turning down my jealous tone.
“Good. I didn’t like that punch anyway.” She looked calm and collected, her tone ready to take on anything I handed to her.
I was too hungover to even fight back with her. Shit, I thought over a pounding headache, think of something witty. “How do you know you don’t like somethin’ you’ve never had before?”
“I only need a small sip to know if somethin’ is to my likin’ or not.” Her smirk became more pronounced.
Dammit. I was at a loss for something to say, so I left her to herself and turned to Kyle. “She’s mines. You would do good to remember that.” I left the threat in the air.
Junior coughed. “Last time I checked, I belonged to God. Y’all both would do good to remember that.” She stood up. “I gotta go. I wanted to chill, but the testosterone in this room is smotherin’ me.”
Nope. Junior could not go. Not looking like she did, pretty and simple wearing my sweatshirt. And I could smell the faint scent of soap on her, and the distinct smell of Junior, which reminded me of sunshine and laughs. “I’ll be good,” I told her. “I promise.”
She gave me a doubtful look. “Uh-huh.” She remained standing, though, watching me with those beautiful eyes.
I walked over to her, grabbing her chin in my hands and giving her a look I had practiced on many girls before. “I promise, Junior.” I even gave my voice that husky, sexy tone that never failed to make girls swoon.
Except Junior just blinked her eyes and looked angry. “Doubt it. I’m out. When you two settle whatever problem you’re havin’ with each other—because don’t think for a minute I’m fooled into thinkin’ this is about me—I’ll be at the mall. Later.” She walked out of the door without a backwards glance.
Of course nothing would work on Junior. She was immune to every charm I had. My voice, my body, my kisses, my looks… nothing worked on her. And it was pissing me off because she was getting me in ways she didn’t even know was working. Her smile, her laugh, the way she grabbed her stomach when she found something really funny. And her eyes shining after she laughed.
The image I conjured up made my bottom half stir.
Nope. Not right now, boy. Not when I’m in a house full of boys. I quickly brought up a picture of my Grandma to squelch the image.
I shook thoughts of Junior out of my head as I turned to Kyle. “What’s your problem?” I demanded. Like Junior had pointed out, Kyle’s admission had nothing to do with actually liking her. I knew for a fact he thought of her like a little sister. He wanted nothing more than for her to be protected.
“Keeping her away from you.”
I couldn’t believe this. Junior? Away from me? “You’re my best friend—you’re supposed to be on my side!” I protested.
“Yeah. I’m with you 100% of the way, Duke. I understand why you feel like you have to take it out on Junior. But it’s not fair to her.” He crossed his arms, giving me an accusing look. “Your problem is with Laila and Crank, not Junior. You need to keep her out of this.”
I glared at him. “We had this discussion already.”
“And we’ll keep having it until you realize you’re wrong. Junior isn’t the type to take this lightly. If she even half-way finds out what you’re all about, you’ll be in for a rude awakening. She is a bad bitch; she has to be, being Crank’s little sister.”
Yeah, sure. Junior, being able to control me. I highly doubted that. “Kyle, listen and listen close: never have I ever given that much power to a girl besides Laila. And look how that turned out. If I were to choose a girl, it sure as fuck wouldn’t be Junior. I want eye candy, not a pretty girl with a bad attitude.” Liar, my subconscious screamed at me. I was able to shut it up easily over the headache. I could focus on only the here and now.
He just gave me a look. “You’ve given Junior a helluva lot more than power. She’s got you whipped.”
“It’s all for a bet.” And I wanted—needed—to be her first, so I could leave her. Just like Laila did me. Crank would be pissed off, no doubt.
He snorted, but it wasn’t in humor. “Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll start to believe it, Duke.” He uncrossed his arms and sat back down. “Like I said, Junior will eat you up and spit you out, then walk all over what’s left of you. You lusted Laila, but, by the time you get to sleep with Junior, you’ll be head over heels in love. You won’t walk away from this one unscathed, buddy.”
His ominous tone almost sent chills through my body—almost. But then I realized something. I was Duke. Girls wanted to be with me, boys wanted to be me. I was a Homeboy. If I chose to have a girl from here to Mexico, I could. Easily. And there was no girl I wanted to actually keep.
Except Junior.
Oh, shut the fuck up, mind. It was nothing but my hormones speaking. I had never went this long without fucking a girl since I spent that week in abstinence for football championships. Why should I wait that long? I was only making girls’ wishes come true. If they tossed me the pitch, damn right I was gonna hit it over the fence.
“You sound like you actually like Junior,” I told him, jealousy hitting me for some reason.
“She’s like a little sister to me. She’s pretty, but she’s too sweet to smash and dash, and I’m not interested in much else. As a big brother, I’m keeping her far away from you. And if that means telling her I love her, I’m gonna do it.” He gave me a steely look. “As a best friend, I’m keeping her on her toes with you. You can’t handle her by herself.”
I gave him a look now. “I doubt it. She’s not that dangerous. Her body isn’t that amazing.” It was even more.
“It’s not about her body, though. It’s that personality. She’ll reel you in with those gorgeous eyes, capture your soul with that laugh, and then kill you with that smile. And you won’t even see it coming, Duke.”
I ignored his warning. “Whatever. I’m going see Junior at the mall.”
*
I could make her out easily amongst the crowd. She was the only one walking idly, like she had no purpose. She paused suddenly, though, stopping into a store with a quickness.
I followed behind her, seeing her hugging some guy, her smile bright and wide. He looked down at her, smiling just as widely as she was. He was white, obviously not someone related to her.
“James!” She tightened her arms around him again, and then stepped back, eying him like he was lunch.
“Cori,” he said, the smirk on his face pronounced. “How’s my biggest fan?”
She giggled, and I recognized the guy immediately. Some NBA player. “I don’t know how they’re doin’, but your number one enemy is doin’ jus’ fine.”
He chuckled. “That’s great. You must be busy. I haven’t had any extreme hate mail tweeted to me in weeks. What’s up with that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Season has only just begun, buddy. All your numbers are down from last year. I’m jus’ lettin’ your game speak for yourself.”
Had someone told me that, I would’ve flipped out. But the guy took it in stride, patting her on the head. “I’m gonna whup your team’s ass tomorrow.”
She shrugged. “Put your money where your mouth is, James.” She still had that little smile on her face, though, which let me know she wasn’t too serious.
He just grinned at her. “Oh I will. What do you wanna bet? 100,000? 150,000?”
“Two million.”
“Whoa, we got a bad ass over here.” He held his hands up, and they laughed at each other like old friends. “You’ve been kicked out of anymore NBA games yet?”
She shook her head. “Nah, and I haven’t sent anymore NBA players home cryin’ either.”
“Man, I feel special.” His phone buzzed, and he looked down at it. “Alright, I gotta go, Cori. See you on Twitter.”
“Peace.” They hugged again, and he was gone.
She turned around, and that glow on her face made me want to go punch that guy in the face. Junior’s glow was supposed to be for me only. When she saw me, her eyes widened in surprise. “Duke!” She strode over to me, grinning. “Solved your problems with Kyle?”
No. “Yes.” Seeing her, though, made me forget what argument Kyle and I had had anyway. “Why haven’t you bought anything?”
She shrugged, glancing down at her empty hands like she had forgotten she wasn’t carrying anything. “I really came for food. Now I’m boy-gazin’.” She looked at me as if she dared me to say anything about her boy-gazing.
I went for nonchalance. “Sweet. I guess I’ll girl gaze.”
“No need to when the prettiest girl in the world is right by you. What else do you need to see?”
I pretended to search. “What? Beyonce is in here?”
She giggled, sliding her hand into mines. “C’mon. I wanna go buy some more Converse.” She led me out of the store.
Usually, I hated to be that close with a girl. Holding hands was a commitment I wasn’t ready to show yet. I mean, holding hands in public was a statement saying you were happy to be with this girl in this relationship. Junior and I were not in a relationship. Had we been in one, would I have been happy? Maybe. But then again, she could’ve been as crooked as every other bitch in this world.
But Junior made it feel different. I felt like I was following her to some grand adventure instead of some boring shoe trying-on for girls. She kept glancing back at me, making comments about the people she passed by. Nothing rude, but stuff like, “I bet he dates black women,” and “she looks like she needs to spend more time with her family.” And, like a little kid, she stopped to ride the Ferris wheel in the middle of the mall. I took pictures, and, by the time we made it to the shoes, all the tension I had left with was gone.
The woman at the counter greeted us, winking at me. I tried to remember her name, but all I knew was that I had slept with her before. Her eyes made a b-line to Junior’s hand conjoined with mines, and the look on her face said all I needed to know. She wasn’t happy. But, damn, I had hit that a few months ago. If I hadn’t called in all that time, what made her think I was interested?
Junior pretended not to notice as she led me to the back of shoe store. “Should I let your hand go? I don’t wanna start anything with your women.”
My women? Yeah, right. “I only have one woman. You.” Half the time, it felt like I was flirting with Junior because I actually liked her. The other half the time, I was trying to win a bet. And get back at her brother.
“I’m an independent woman, Duke. I don’t belong to anyone but myself. Remember that,” she told me, sticking her head into the shoe shelf and looking for a pair. She pulled a box out, frowned over it, and then stuck it back in. I watched her butt wriggle as she moved, mesmerized. “Black or blue?”
Huh? I thought, still watching her. Despite my earlier words, Junior did have a nice body. She was all soft, supple curves underneath her clothes. Clothes I wanted off as quick as possible.
“Duke,” she said in a sing-song voice, waving the boxes in front of my face. “Black. Or. Blue?”
Oh yeah. “Uh, black.” Like my heart.
“Sweet.” She smiled, putting the blue ones back and sitting down. I kneeled down in front of her. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Helping you try on your shoes.” And starting the first part to seducing her. I had to know where she liked to be touched, what got her going, and all that stuff.
She shrugged, leaning back in the chair. I took her shoe off slowly, then smiled at the red and blue polka-dotted sock with Monsters! Written on it, and some cartoon character. Typical Junior. I took a minute to massage the bottom of her foot, but instead of looking satisfied, she slid down and giggled, clutching her stomach.
“I’m trying to seduce you, Junior, stop laughing.”
“Honey, if she’s laughin’, you ain’t doin’ too good a job,” a woman said as she passed by. She was about sixty years old with dark brown skin and wild gray hair. She had twinkling eyes similar to Junior’s after she finished laughing, and a big smile I suspected was mostly dentures.
My face burned at my words, but I smiled at her. “She’s ticklish.”
“Then you have to find that sweet spot—the one where she laughs and sighs at the same time.” She had a pair of granny heels in her hand. Her bright red dress and matching hat let me know she was either coming from church, or going to church.
Hm. Junior’s sweet spot. I had a good idea where it was, but I couldn’t very explore it in public, considering it was a bit further north than her feet. “Where is it?” I asked, as Junior finally settled down.
“Each girl has a different one. But you look like the type of boy that’ll find out quickly.” She winked then went on her way.
Now exactly what type of guy did I look like? As I pondered that—and, honestly, pondered Junior’s sweet spot—Junior handed me her shoe and stuck her foot out, claiming she was “royalty.”
“Every queen deserves a good king,” I told her, my voice low and husky.
“I guess I’ll have to search for a good one, instead of the so-so king I currently have,” she teased, tilting my head up with her hand and kissing me on the lips. It was sweet, something straight out of a corny chick-flick movie. And it made my stomach feel… funny. Like butterflies turned into pterodactyls. They pounded away in my stomach until I broke eye contact with her, shaking the thoughts out.
I was not going to let Junior break me.
“Does it fit?” I questioned, ending the moment that was like a jar full of sugar—too sweet.
Her brows furrowed as she wiggled her foot from side to side and moved her toes. “Yeah, I think it fits.” She stood up, and I backed out of the way slightly. Her butt came dangerously close to my face. I wouldn’t have minded, actually. I was definitely an ass kind of guy. I needed something to hold on to. She walked up and down the aisle a few times before she settled on the shoes. “I’ll get’em.”
“Good.” And I’ll get you. One day.
She slid her foot into the shoes she came here wearing, and then dropped the other Converse into the box. I stood, brushing invisible dirt off my pants and following behind her. “Wanna get some ice-cream after this?” she asked, glancing back at me as she pulled a wad of hundreds from her bra. She took one of the stack and put the other ones back in.
I watched her breasts to see if I could see the outline, but I couldn’t. What the hell was in a girl’s bra? Were there, like, secret compartments or something for money and keys? Shaking my head, I answered her. “Sure. Only if you let me pay.”
“Deal.” She handed the girl at the counter the money. She was the same girl we had walked in to. She was a pretty girl, tall and skinny with honey skin and long brown hair. I was sure she was Hispanic, but her name failed me at the moment. I felt sort of bad, but, then again, I didn’t. Junior grabbed her change and her bag, leaving me to follow behind her.
I felt weird not holding her hand, so I grabbed it. She didn’t make any response except to look around into other stores curiously, as if she wanted to go in, but something was holding her back. It was as if she didn’t notice my presence at all.
Which was weird. Because I noticed hers. A lot more than I cared to admit.
I really hoped we could stay friends after we fucked.
I almost laughed. As if. That never happened. Virgins were clingy, and I was going to college next year. I didn’t need some girl stuck up my ass. Even though Junior didn’t seem like the type, girls changed. Case study, Laila.
One day, that girl would stop interrupting my thoughts and ruining my life.
Dragging me into the food court, Junior sat me down at a table and used my twenty to get us ice-cream. I leaned back in the chairs, studying, watching, being observant. A couple girls dragged their eyes over my body, lingering at my face. A few were even brave enough to wink at me. One girl whispered my name, followed by “high school football star.” Yeah, that was me.
Don’t get me wrong—I liked the attention. But sometimes I wished I could go places without girls commenting on my looks. I was always having my ego pumped by women. Big women, small women, younger women, older women. Women of every shape, size, and color. I knew I looked good. I needed somebody who would bring me down sometimes. That’s the kind of woman I wanted to marry. The kind who told me I was sexy, yet, at the same time, reminded me I wasn’t worth shit without her.
Like Junior.
Damn, it would be hard to stop hanging with her.
The hair on my arms bristled, and I looked up, trying to find the source of the chill going through me. My gaze first locked in on Junior. She turned around as if sensing my eyes and flashed me a smile. Her eyes crinkled, and she looked so damn cute, but she wasn’t the issue. She was safe. When she turned around, I continued my search. My eyes landed on…
Laila.
My stomach churned angrily, and my heart did this weird flip-flop thing. Yeah, I still had feelings for her. And deep ones, too.
She was staring directly at me. Her eyes roamed from the top of my head, down to my waist. A little smile crossed her face. Damn, she was still beautiful, too.
I stood up, making sure Junior’s head was turned. My legs strode towards Laila confidently, even though I felt anything but. My hands were shaking, but I didn’t know if it was because I was angry, or upset, or about to break down, or what. I had only cried over one person before, and it was her.
We were hidden from Junior’s view in this spot. Laila looked amazing as usual, dressed in skinny jeans and high-heeled boots, and a red sweater. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, but it did nothing to take away from her beautiful face. Those wide eyes sparkled happily. How the hell could she be happy when she had treated me so wrongly? Bitch, I thought, but the word was gone from my thoughts the minute she threw her arms around me.
“Duke!” she squealed, tightening her grip around me. She kissed my cheek, leaving a bit of red lipstick on me. Blame my hormones, but that red lipstick made me want to take her into that little office with the sofa in it and do what I should’ve been doing to her for the past two years.
“Laila.” My voice was cool. “We didn’t get a chance to speak at the game yesterday. How are you?” Not that I cared.
She gave me a seductive smile. “Peachy, Duke. Better than you it seems.” Before I had a chance to ask what she meant, she elaborated. “I see you’ve downgraded.”
Was she talking about Junior? A little bit of irritation went through me. I felt the need to protect the girl. “Really? I feel like she’s an upgrade.”
“Of course you do.” Laila just smiled. Laila Danielle. My sweet Danielle was now this… Laila. I wasn’t sure I liked it. “You’ve been around, I heard.”
“Why you ask? You jealous?” I leaned against the wall, arms crossed. I was trying to appear calm and collected, but she did things to me.
Her finger trailed down the side of my face. “Not really. I could have you when I wanted you. Junior can’t keep a man like you. You need eye candy, somebody worthy of your status.”
Chills went up my spine. “Junior’s eye candy.” She was. Not really a trophy wife; she lacked the ‘sexy’ factor, but she was gorgeous in that sweet, always happy, make-your-life-happy way.
She laughed. “Mhm, baby. Whatever you say.” She trailed her eyes from my shoulders down over my chiseled arms to my torso. “You’ve grown.”
I had. I had sprouted another four inches, and gained about thirty pounds in pure muscle. “Sure have. Baby,” I mocked.
She pretended to ignore the jab. “I wonder where else you’ve grown.” Her fingers hooked into the waist band of my jeans, letting me know exactly what she meant.
Fuck, I really wanted her to know. “Why’re you doin’ this, Laila?” My voice sounded strained as my bottom half stirred with arousal at her touch. I missed her. Badly.
“I just wanted to prove a point to you. You’re not over me, like I hear you tell people, Duke.” She pouted, showcasing that red lipstick.
“You’re over me.” It was a statement, not a question. I didn’t want to hear the answer.
She shook her head. “I made some mistakes, but I had to live with them. I was never over you, Duke.”
“Then come back to me.” I could leave Junior alone then, let her find a guy perfect for her. Taking Laila back would be the perfect punch in the gut to Crank. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
Her lips immediately sought mines, and I kissed her. Fire danced from our mouths, not as hot as it was before, but it still burned. There was none of the fireworks I had experienced with Junior, but still. This was Laila, my Laila. My hands roamed up her sweater to slide under her bra. I could’ve went on kissing her for days, but a sharp “You bastard” came from in front and behind me.
I recognized Crank and Junior’s voice immediately.