Eight
“So, do I start looking for your new place in Stamford or not? Or are you sticking with your roots and moving to Bridgeport?”
I chuckled at Clayton’s question as I pulled up to one of the last stop signs before I arrived at my destination. Quietly, my stomach growled, and I glanced at the paper shopping bag that occupied my passenger’s seat, frowning at the overpowering aroma of bacon and waffles that filled my vehicle. I was hungry as hell, but that was far from the main reason I was ready to get where I was going.
“Clay, bruh…relax,” I laughed. “How are you more anxious than I am?”
His voiced boomed through the speakers in my truck. “I’m not anxious, I’m ready to get moving. Let’s fucking go, son.”
Shaking my head, I pulled up to the gate that would let me up to the house, and keyed in the code that would make it swing open. “Not even gonna front – I’m ready too. I’m trying to be patient though, you know? It’s not a guarantee.”
“Stop saying that shit.”
“Why? What’s wrong with me wanting to manage my expectations?” I asked, as I stopped the car and shifted into “park”. “When I know something, you’ll be… somewhere in the first five people I tell, aiight?”
“First five?! Damn, who gets number one?”
“Chloe,” I laughed. “She asked to be first to know so she can start… public relating as soon as possible. And I have to let my agent know too. And Aunt Phylicia. And obviously Wil.”
“So that’s my replacement now, huh? I see how you do, moving me out of number four so she can have it. I hope she’s good to you nigga, I really do.”
I was still laughing at Clay’s faux jealousy when I got out the car, going around to the other side to grab the bag full of breakfast. “Whatever man, I’ll talk to you later.”
I got off the phone, and then took a deep breath before I moved to head into Wil’s temporary housing at her parent’s home. I’d taken her key with me to go get breakfast at her favorite little local spot, leaving her in a state that was miles outside of the dynamic we’d been working on for years.
Naked and exhausted.
I was getting ready to put my key in the door when it swung open. My eyes went wide at the sight of Wil’s mother on the other side, but I quickly tucked the key back into my pocket and put on a smile.
“Ramsey, hi sweetie!” she greeted warmly, extending her arms for a hug that I easily gave. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you – our girl isn’t feeling well this morning.”
My eyebrow shot up. “Really? What’s wrong with her?”
“Well, her father and I went on a little getaway yesterday, and didn’t get back until this morning. I stopped in to check on her, but she wasn’t answering, so I peeked in, and found her laid out in the bed, no clothes on, couldn’t even get herself up!”
“That doesn’t sound good at all,” I shook my head. “What do you think is wrong?”
Carla glanced backward, like she was making sure Wil couldn’t hear. “I’ll tell you what I think, even though she swears it’s not it – that girl is hardheaded! She’s been putting herself through entirely too much. The crazy workouts, barely eating, all while she’s still dealing with the Darius thing, and the career change. She probably strained a muscle or something out on the track and didn’t realize it. How could she? The girl is running around pretending to be normal, like she’s not mentally and emotionally exhausted, but she doesn’t want to hear it from her mama. So, maybe she’ll listen to you.”
“Listen to me?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Yes. We only came home to switch suitcases before we head to the West coast for a few days, and Mama has done all she can do. I ran her a hot bath and helped her in there, and I was going back to my house to fix her something to eat, but it looks like you have that covered. If she needs some help out of the tub, just avert your eyes,” she laughed, as if I hadn’t seen and tasted every inch of her daughter the night before. “I made her promise to call Mimi if she can’t get around today though, okay?”
With those last words, Wil’s mother breezed out the front door, closing it behind her. I put the bag of food down on the counter, then peeked out the window until I saw her round the corner to the main house before I went looking for Wil, who was indeed in the bathtub, eyes closed, submerged in a pile of bubbles.
I walked up the tub and knelt beside her, pushing a few strands of half-straight/half-curly hair behind her ear. The movement made her open her eyes, and for a few moments we said nothing as our gazes connected.
“Hi…” she said, finally, turning in my direction and planting her elbows on the side of the small tub. “I see you came back.”
“Yeah. I just went to grab breakfast for us, since there was nothing in your fridge. I texted you, to say where I was.”
She shrugged. “Haven’t seen it. I opened my eyes to my mother in my face, asking why I was naked.”
“Wow.” I grinned. “Quite a wakeup call.”
“It really was.”
After a couple of seconds of silence, I reached forward to touch her, using my fingertips to make a line through the bubbles on her arms – a lot less than I wanted to do, with her barely covered and looking sexy as hell in that tiny tub.
“So…” I started. “Muscle strain had you stuck in the bed, huh?”
That question was met with a soft laugh, and a subtle shake of her head. “No. You had me stuck in the bed from the way you woke me up at three this morning. I was sore, and… friggin’ paralyzed from the waist down. Still.”
“My bad, Champ.”
She visibly shivered about that for some reason, then bit down on her lip as she pulled back, away from my touch. “Nothing to apologize for. I needed last night. So thank you.”
I shook my head. “Nothing to be thanking me for. Last night was mutual. But why do I get the feeling that you’re putting up a wall right now?”
“Not intentionally,” she said, but didn’t deny it. “I just… I don’t really know what to do right now. I mean, you and I were friends, but then last night—”
“Doesn’t have to change that, in the slightest.”
“But none of my other friends have screwed my brains out, Ramsey. Let’s not pretend this is just the normal course of a friendship, because it isn’t. This is… something else.”
I raised my shoulders. “Okay, so let’s allow it to be something else. We don’t have to make the shit weird.”
“I’m not trying to make it weird, but I knew how to look at you before. I knew what category you fit into for me. “Ramsey is my friend.” But friends don’t give friends multiple orgasms. Friends don’t tongue kiss. Friends don’t sex friends to sleep.”
“Says who?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t helpful, and Wil rolled her eyes.
“Says me. I don’t know how to define this.”
“Why do you have to? We slept together one time, and you’re bugging right now.”
Her face immediately twisted into a scowl. “Okay, first of all—”
“I already know, don’t tell you you’re bugging.”
“Thank you,” she snapped. “Second – my life has too much other chaos happening to leave this up in the air. And third – Ramsey, do you seriously think it’s only going to be this one night? After the way we…” she closed her eyes, and shook her head. “There’s just no way.”
“Too good for just once, huh?” I asked, and her eyes shot open so she could scowl at me again.
“Can you be serious please?”
I nodded. “My bad. To answer your question… no. I don’t think it’s going to just be the one night. I think that what happened last night was inevitable—”
“So you expected that? For us to sleep together? Is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time, while I thought we were just friends?!”
“Hell no,” I said, squashing that shit immediately. “I’m not saying that, at all. I’m just… shit, look at how naturally we fell into that vibe, Wil. No awkwardness, it just felt like something that was supposed to happen. So the way I see it, maybe this was how it was always gonna be.”
“So what, in your mind, we’re together or something?”
I frowned. “Is that what you think I’m trying to push on you?”
“No, it’s…” She let out a heavy enough sigh that it called my attention to the fact that her eyes were glossy. It felt like the whole conversation was going south, and I wasn’t sure that touching her wouldn’t make it worse. “I don’t think you’re trying to pressure me into anything Ramsey. But I can’t get it out of my head.”
“Can’t get what out of your head?”
“That maybe what you’re saying is right, that it was always supposed to be you and me, that maybe everything that’s happened was just God lining things up the way he wanted them. And that maybe… I’m about to fuck it all up.”
“Why do you think you’re about to mess something up?”
“Because… I can’t do this right now, Ramsey. I can’t date you, or anybody right now, not with… everything. I know what happened between us last night – loved what happened between us last night. But I ended an eight year relationship two months ago. Before I’m part of an “us” again… I need some time to just be me.”
She looked so broken up about saying those words to me that I felt bad about having to stifle a laugh. Not because what she was saying was funny, but because… “Wil… duh.” I reached forward, cupping her chin to make her face me as I spoke. “You think I suddenly forgot everything you’ve been through, everything we’ve talked about in the last few months? I promise you, I haven’t. I’m not asking you to do something you aren’t ready for – I’m asking you to be open to letting our friendship shift to accommodate what happened last night, so that we don’t fall into some bullshit, awkward place where it won’t survive. That’s all.”
“You say that like it’s so simple.”
“Because I think it can be. I mean… what’s really changed, honestly?”
She blushed a little, as a sheepish grin spread over her face. “Well… the fact that you’ve been inside of me now is pretty major, I think.”
“I guess you have a point there. But… hey, you know what?” I tugged her toward me as I leaned forward, to speak into her ear. “It sounds to me like we just got closer. I’ve touched you everywhere, tasted you everywhere, been inside you… nah, we can’t just call each other friends anymore. We’re goddamn besties now.”
I grinned at the way she laughed about that, using wet hands to try to shove me back. But that just made me reach into the water, slipping my hands underneath to lift her out as she squealed.
“What are you doing?!” she shrieked.
“Taking you back to your room – I saw your hands, and I can’t have my bestie out here pruning up in the water.”
She laughed. “Will you stop saying the word “bestie”, please?”
“Why?” I asked, as I headed down the hall to the bedroom with her in my arms. “Because you’re a hater, and trying to deny my status?”
“Am not,” she giggled. “It’s just not a very manly word.”
“I’ve got enough dick not to be worried about that,” I said, and she blushed about that too. “So what’s the next excuse?”
In her room, I let her down onto her feet beside the bed, thinking she would sit or lay down. Instead, she stayed close to me, gripping the hem of the tee shirt I’d taken from my gym bag to wear on the breakfast run.
“I don’t have any more. I’m wet and naked in front of you right now, so I guess I have to just accept it.”
“Wet and naked and comfortable as hell, aren’t you? Don’t front,” I said, grinning at her until a new smile spread over her face too. “See?” I grabbed her waist, forcing myself to keep my hands there instead of allowing them to slip lower. “This should be all the proof you need that this is just… an organic transition.”
“What is an organic transition?” she asked, lifting her arms to drape over my shoulders.
I shrugged. “Whatever we say it is. You felt like putting your arms around me, so you did. I feel like grabbing your ass, so in a few seconds, I probably will. Just doing what feels… I don’t know. Natural.”
“So like this?” she asked, and then leaned in, pressing those pretty, soft ass lips to mine. I lowered my palms, grabbing handfuls of her to urge her closer as her tongue slipped into my mouth.
“Yeah,” I told her, when we finally pulled back. “Just like that.”
“What are the banana stickers for?”
Wil had been contentedly unloading boxes of clothes to hang in the closet of her new townhouse, not paying me any mind as I unpacked the boxes for the “office” section of her bedroom. But, as soon as that question left my lips, she came flying out of the closet and into the main area of the bedroom, snatching the thick, heavily decorated planner I’d been looking at from my hands.
“This is private!” she snapped, tucking it protectively under her arm, and I raised my hands.
“My bad, I didn’t mean any harm. I’ve seen you post your “spreads” online before, so I didn’t think it was anything you’d be mad about.”
She huffed. “I post those before I put anything personal on them. And I’m not mad, I’m just… it’s private.”
“I’ve got it now,” I told her, nodding. “And I didn’t even read anything you wrote down. I was just skimming, and reading the quotes on your stickers. I saw the bananas were in there regularly, so I thought I’d ask what they meant. What do they mean?”
“I told you it was personal!”
I frowned. “Seriously? A damn banana sticker?”
“Yes,” she insisted. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
“Okay.”
And I really was prepared to let the shit go, but then I saw her face as she walked back to the closet, taking the planner with her, and it rubbed me the wrong way. After a few minutes… it started to bother the hell out of me, actually.
For the last two weeks, Wil and I had been… good. Very good. Since that first night of unexpected intimacy, we’d managed to get past the awkwardness and fall back into our same groove as friends… almost.
The sleepovers were a new addition to the dynamic.
But we were working with it, and we were good. This was the first time we’d had any friction, and I’d be damned if I was going see her glossy-eyed and upset over a goddamn sticker and just let the shit go.
“Yo,” I said, as I headed to the closet to talk to her. I walked up just in time to regret announcing that I was approaching – she snapped that planner shut like it held state secrets, then shoved it onto the shelf behind her.
“What’s up?” she asked, and I shook my head as I leaned against the door frame.
“I feel like that’s what I should be asking you. You really just spazzed on me about a sticker, and I’m trying to understand where you’re coming from.”
She sucked her teeth, and crossed her arms. “It’s not about the stickers, it’s about the invasion of my privacy.”
“Which I apologized for, because that wasn’t my intention, but then… you snapped on me about the sticker. But you say it’s not about the sticker. But if it’s not, why are you tripping about telling me what it means? What, you have smoothies on those days or something?”
“I don’t… have smoothies on those days,” she snapped, then let out a heavy sigh. “Look, Ramsey, I… it is about the stickers, okay? And I can’t tell you what that means because it’s fucking embarrassing.”
I frowned. “Embarrassing? What the hell is embarrassing about a sticker?”
“It’s not the sticker, it’s what it represents!”
My eyebrows went up. “Wil… I don’t get it. But you know what? I don’t have to get it. You said you didn’t want to talk about it, so we’ll just—”
“Oral sex, okay?!” she blurted, then immediately dropped her gaze to her feet. “The bananas… they’re for blow jobs.”
“…What?”
Wil didn’t say anything, she just lifted her head and stared, like she was waiting for me to catch up. And after a few moments, I did, piecing together the regular placement of those particular stickers throughout her week, but then that raised a question that I honestly didn’t mean to speak out loud, but couldn’t seem to stop.
“Why are you scheduling head though?”
She let out a sigh that made me regret the question more than I already did. “Look, I know how ridiculous it is, okay? And I don’t anymore, obviously. But… Darius and I were so busy that it got really easy to go too much time without being intimate. So, in my effort to keep the spark alive, I would… put it in my planner. Like, today, no matter what, I’m going to take this moment to make sure my man is taken care of, and nothing is going to come in the way of that. Didn’t really work for keeping him faithful though, so… maybe it wasn’t that great of an idea.”
“I… I mean, I don’t think anybody wants to feel like their intimate moments are just a to-do list item…”
Her head snapped up. “So you think it contributed to him seeking out somebody else?”
“No!” I held my hands up. “No, I’m not saying that. I’m not blaming you, or… banana stickers… for the decisions of a grown ass man. I’m just saying… I feel like if you have to schedule it, instead of doing it impromptu, maybe something else is going on, you know? I get it for people with kids and shit, but otherwise…”
“I know that. Which is why it’s embarrassing. It should have been a red flag, you know? But instead of looking deeper, I just… put banana stickers in my planner for three days a week. And it didn’t make things any better. I failed,” she said, with a crack of emotion in her voice that made me feel like shit for opening the planner period, let alone asking about it. This was the type of thing that she and I didn’t discuss – the kind of thing she maybe talked about with female friends.
The kind of thing that made me want to punch that clown-ass “fiancé” in his fucking face all over again.
“Hey,” I told her, closing the space between us in the closet to wrap my arms around her. “You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. You tried to do something to fix your relationship. You tried. He didn’t. And that’s his bad, not yours, okay?”
When she didn’t respond, I pulled back enough to grab her chin, tipping her face up to mine. With my thumbs, I brushed away the stray tears that had welled in her eyes. “You’re really about to make me go roll up on this nigga on principle, Champ,” I told her, and she laughed, shaking her head.
“That’s not necessary. No need for my silliness to take this any further.”
“It wasn’t silly,” I said. “It was… sweet, that you wanted to make sure you were doing your part.”
She tilted her head. “So… are you saying that whenever I start using my planner again… maybe banana stickers should be part of my schedule?”
“Hell no,” I answered, with more force than intended. I immediately grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close to mitigate any damage from my response. “I’m saying… if you decide you want to do that… that should be the only reason. Because you want to, not on some “I have to do this” shit, okay? No goddamn banana stickers, please.”
“You sure?”
“I am positive,” I chuckled. “There will never be a need for such a thing.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “Never?”
“Never,” I responded, but something in the way she asked gave me pause. “Wait though – don’t mistake that for me saying I never want… banana sticker privileges.”
“So you do want me to use banana stickers for you?”
“No. I’m saying, I want what the banana stickers represent.”
“So…” her eyes narrowed. “…you want me to suck your dick, Ramsey? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No! I mean… yea—goddamn it, why are you doing this?” I asked, suddenly feeling hot as fuck in the confined space of the closet.
“Doing what?” she countered, a little too innocently as her hands pressed against my stomach. “I’m just trying to get some clarity here.” Her fingers drifted lower, under my tee shirt, to the waistband of the basketball shorts I’d thrown on that morning. “Do you…” I groaned a little as her fingertips brushed my stomach. “Want me…” She slipped past my boxers, cupping me with both hands as I grew harder. “To suck your dick… or not?”
She finished that question with her lips right against mine. Her eyes were full of mischief as she watched me through lowered lids, waiting for me to respond. But she knew my response – my answer was hard enough to shatter glass, and right there in her hands.
“Feels like a trick question,” I told her, grabbing her wrists.
She grinned, and then squeezed a little as she gave me a slow pump that made me care a little less that the closet door was wide open, and so was the door to her bedroom, and five or six friends and family members were all over her new downstairs right now, unpacking boxes.
“It’s really simple… do you want my mouth on you, Ram?”
She pumped again.
“My tongue?”
And again.
“Maybe a teensy bit of teeth?”
And again.
“Do you want to know what the inside of my throat feels like around your dick?”
Goddamn, again.
I released my hold on her wrists – since I wasn’t remotely interested in stopping what she was doing anyway – and cupped her face and neck instead. “You’re a little naughty ass, aren’t you? Where the fuck did this come from?”
She grinned, then drug her lip between her teeth. “Well, you’ve been encouraging me to do what comes naturally, to go with what I feel…” She let go of my dick long enough to yank down my shorts and boxers, then dropped to her knees. “And what I feel like doing is making a point.”
I was still upright, looking down at her as she wrapped her hands around my dick again, while maintaining eye contact with me. Her eyes were hooded with lust, and no trace of those tears from before. Wil was dressed in leggings and a faded tee shirt, face scrubbed clear of any makeup, hair in what she referred to as a “pineapple”. Completely dressed down, and so damned pretty.
“What point is that?” I managed to ask before she cupped my balls and squeezed, momentarily taking away my ability to speak.
“That “banana stickers” wouldn’t only be for your pleasure around here.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond to that, because her mouth was on me. Hot, and wet, and so fucking tight it was like she was trying to suck a triple-thick milkshake through a straw.
Perfection.
And from the eye contact she was maintaining with me, she knew it. Knew exactly what it would do when she swirled her tongue around my head, or trailed it along those veins, or hummed her own pleasure with the act while I was still in her mouth. Knew how differently – in a good way – I would see her when she jacked me off with one hand while my balls were in her mouth. Knew how damned good it would be when she gagged a little trying to swallow all of me, how damned sexy she would look with her eyes watering from the effort. I buried my hands in her hair, ruining her style, and neither of us seemed to care about that, or about the fact that the voices of her friends and family were background music to what we were doing.
She’d just pulled back for air, after having me down her throat, when I felt that little tingle starting up. But I didn’t want it like that – now that she’d pulled this out on me, I wanted to be inside of her, so I pulled her up from the floor, turned her around, snatched those leggings and panties down, and did that.
I clapped a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream as I drove into her. She whimpered and moaned against my palm as I stroked her as deep as I could get before I put my mouth to her ear.
“Birth control?” I asked, and she shook her head. I made a mental note to make sure to pull out, and then stopped holding back. The hand that wasn’t on her mouth went to her clit, stimulating her there while I stroked until her legs went weak as she came hard, arching her back and damn near breaking my skin as she bit down on my hand.
I wasn’t far behind her – she felt too good with nothing between us. As much as I didn’t want to, I pulled out just before I came, leaving the evidence on the back of her shirt instead of inside of her.
After a few moments to catch our breath, I carefully pulled the shirt off of her, making sure to watch her hair.
“I figured since we were already in your closet, you could just grab a new one,” I said, and she grinned.
“How thoughtful of you.”
“I try.”
Any further banter was interrupted by a loud burst of laughter from somewhere in the townhouse, reminding us that we weren’t the only ones there. We quickly moved to cover up enough to get to her en-suite bathroom where we cleaned up. Afterwards, Wil went back to the closet with new pep in her step, and I went back to the boxes I’d been unpacking before.
Several minutes later, Wil poked her head out.
“Hey,” she called, and I looked up.
“What’s up?”
“We are still friends too, right?” she asked, then glanced at the bedroom door, like she was making sure no one was listening. “We’ve been doing a lot of adult things. Which I don’t necessarily mind, obviously, I just… I still want to do other things with you too.”
I put down the stack of books in my hands, and crossed my arms. “Wil…you’re hungry, aren’t you?”
“I… what?” she replied, frowning. “How did you know that’s what I was getting at?”
“Because I know you,” I said, pushing my hands into my pockets as I stepped forward. “Because…friends. All we do is kick it and eat, Champ. I knew it had to be one or the other, and considering the fact that I worked up a little appetite too…”
She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face. “Okay, so maybe you got this one. But… seriously. I deeply enjoy being intimate with you,” she said, as I closed the last of the distance between us. “But I don’t want that to be all we do. I get it, you know? We’re exploring this whole new dynamic, learning about each other in this totally different way, but I don’t want to end up missing… my friend.”
“You say that as if the words “Do you want me to suck your dick?” didn’t come out of your mouth,” I said, and she fake-gasped.
“Are you saying today is my fault?”
I nodded. “Hell yeah it’s your fault,” I laughed. “But also… I get what you’re saying. And I agree. We’ll make sure to keep it balanced, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, with a little smile.
I started to – wanted to – kiss her then, but her father’s bellowing voice carried up the stairs. “I hit up the BBQ spot! Who wants hot links?” he asked, and I cocked an eyebrow at Wil.
“I know you want hot links,” I teased her, earning myself a swat to the arm as she eased past me.
“Just for that, I’m about to put on a show.”
Coming up behind her, I smacked her ass, making her yelp before she even thought to stifle it.
“Looking forward to it… friend.”
“Next time I see you,” Soriyah declared through the speaker of my cell phone, in her melodic Bahamian accent, “I swear to God, I am going right upside your head if you do not stop it.”
I sucked my teeth, and continued surveying myself in the mirror. “Right. Like you’re actually coming to Connecticut.”
“You say that as if I did not spend five hours in an aluminum can in the sky just two months ago, for a wedding that did not happen – Thank you Jesus, by the way – and then had to get right back on another airplane to come back. You know how I feel about airplanes Wilhelmina.”
“Really? My full name?”
“I need you to understand how serious I am.”
“You mean how seriously empty your threat is?”
“You and I will have a boxing match, and I will leave you in a state that your father is too embarrassed to call you his child. I will be his new child, if I hear you call yourself “fat” again. For one, “fat” is not the end of the world – that is something you Americans are obsessed with. Secondly, you aren’t fat anyway.”
“I sure as hell ain’t skinny anymore,” I mused, poking at the layer of stomach fat I couldn’t seem to get rid of. Standing in my underwear, looking at myself in the mirror, it wasn’t as if I hated what I saw, or anything like that, but… damn. Everything used to be tight and right. I had guns, and buns of steel, and abs. I hadn’t seen serious abs in a long time – not in years, since my official retirement from the track. One little funky ass knee injury had ruined my chances of competing again, and since then, my relationship with fitness had been… sporadic.
And it showed.
If some random commenter on Wil in the Field, which had gone live with the first episode just last night, had noticed… surely Darius had too, right? He’d met me when I was super young and super fine, only for me to…
“So, like I said. My fist, your head. Consider it a date.”
“Oh hush,” I replied. “I gotta go, I’m supposed to be meeting Ramsey for a workout this morning, and God knows I need it.”
“A workout, sure. Those “workouts” are why your hips are spreading as it is.”
“Not that kind of workout,” I told her, as I grabbed my dri-fit pants from the bed to pull them on. “We’re going to the track, like usual.”
“Of course, tell me anything girl. You do know you do not have to lie to me about your intentions with this man, when I have been encouraging you to drop that other one for years. Ramsey has powerful thighs – tells me everything I need to know about him. This is a man that my friend deserves, a man that is worthy of her. Not that chicken-legged man, no.”
I burst out laughing as I pulled a tank top over my head. “Chicken-legged though Ri?”
“I said what I said. Now get off the phone, it is too early for this.”
“Ri, you called me!”
“Because as soon as I saw that comment, I knew you were going to take it personal, and I was right, like I always am.”
“You’re not always right.”
She sucked her teeth. “Name a time when I was not. Oh – oh – is that silence I hear? Yes, it is, because you cannot name one, can you? No, is the correct answer. You cannot. Goodbye.”
I giggled as the phone went silent, and a second later, chimed to let me know Soriyah had hung up the line. As silly as she was, I really couldn’t think of a time when she’d been wrong about anything. I was tying my shoes when my doorbell rang, and I quickly finished up to answer the door, already knowing it was Ramsey on the other side.
“You ready for me Champ?” he asked, as soon as I opened the door, immediately setting off heat between my thighs. He’d been calling me “Champ” since before we were friends, and it was a nickname I’d grown to love. Now though, ever since he’d implored me to take his dick like a champ, and taken to calling me that while he did very dirty things to me… it had a whole other connotation, and set off a different feeling than before. Now, it turned me on.
But who was I kidding?
Everything about him turned me on.
“Uhh, yeah,” I said, pulling the door open for him to step in. “Let me just grab a jacket, it looks a little gross outside.”
He nodded, closing the door behind him. “Yeah, we may have to skip the bleachers today. Can’t have you falling on that little booty and getting hurt.”
“Little? Please!” I shouted from the hall as I headed to my room to get a jacket from the closet. “A little too much is more like it. I’m trying to go get rid of some ass, some thighs, some stomach, all of that. The internet will not be roasting me, no thanks. Well… not anymore than they already have.”
I zipped up my little yoga jacket as I moved back into the living room to find Ramsey standing there, arms crossed, with a strange look on his face.
“You ready?” I asked, and he scoffed a bit, then shook his head.
“Wil… you got me up at six in the damn morning to workout because of some shit some strangers on the internet said?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with that is – that’s not what I’m interested in spending my time doing. You want me to help you be stronger, be faster, be healthier for you, cool. We can go beast this shit any time. But I’m not trying to be part of you looking down on yourself because of some bullshit comments from people who don’t even really give a fuck. They’re just talking shit on the internet because they can.”
“But it is for me. For my damn self-esteem, so I’m not getting talked about like a damn dog, and so I don’t scare off another fiancé.”
Ramsey’s eyes went wide. “Oh! So this is about your bitch-ass ex too? Yeah, nah. We can do this today because I already committed to it, but after that, I can’t hang. If looking a certain way for somebody else is your motivation, I gotta tap out, because I can’t cosign that shit. You can holler at me when it’s about you again.”
I stared at him for a long moment, lips parted, waiting for him to crack a smile, laugh, anything to give some levity to what was surely just our normal back and forth. But when he didn’t, I shook my head.
“Wait… are you serious?” I asked, frowning.
“Hell yes I’m serious,” he told me, in a tone that eliminated any question about it. I watched, dumbfounded as he headed for the door, barely tossing a glance back at me. “You coming or not? Let’s do this.”
Any other time, he would have waited for me, but this time I got no such courtesy. He left me there while he headed to his truck, and I grabbed my keys and wristlet to hurry behind him, concerned that he really was going to leave me there.
I was… completely thrown off balance. The whole ride to the smaller track we used when the big one was occupied was completely silent, which had never, ever happened. Ramsey kept his eyes on the road, and the few times I glanced at him, there was obvious tension in his jaw.
He was mad at me.
I’d never experienced Ramsey being mad at me.
I didn’t even know how to react to something like that, had no idea what to do or say. So I said nothing, and his silence continued all the way to our destination. Even then, he only spoke to advance the workout, and tell me what to do.
About twenty minutes in, right after he’d bossed me through running a lap at a pace I hadn’t seen in years, it occurred to me that he was working me harder than usual. I didn’t know if that meant he’d been taking it easy before, and he was pushing my limits now because of what I said I wanted, or if he was pushing me because he was pissed. Either way, I kept my mouth shut and worked as hard as I could, until I got sick of… whatever this was.
“Come on Wil. Five more burpees, lets get the shit out of the way,” he said, once he realized I wasn’t just stopping to breathe.
I crossed my arms. “That’s all it is to you? Just some shit to get out of the way?”
“At this point? Yes. I’ve got better shit to do.”
“Then go fucking do it!” I pointed to his truck. “If you’re gonna be pissy, you can go do your better shit, because I’d rather not be a burden or a chore to somebody who’s supposed to be helping me as a friend!”
He scowled. “That’s what you think this would be, Wil? Really?! You think that feeding your insecurity is the type of thing a friend would do? Validating the idea that you should give a fuck what some internet trolls think, that’s friend shit to you? I don’t know what kind of friends you have, but if that’s what I gotta do, then nah, I’m not your goddamn friend, I’m somebody who actually cares about you, unlike the motherfuckers you’re trying to look good for. When you’re already bad as hell.”
“To you!”
He threw his hands up. “Yes, to me! Maybe I’m wrong for thinking this, but… shit, doesn’t my opinion hold a little more weight than some damn strangers and your cheating ex?”
“I never said it didn’t!”
“But you’re sure as hell acting like it! We’ve been working out together for damn near two years, and I’ve never heard you talk down on yourself, until some shit was said on the internet. And for you to think that grimy-ass dude left you because of your body? That’s wild, Wil. I don’t even understand that shit, can’t wrap my mind around it.”
He shook his head as he spoke, with such a peeved look on his face that tears started to prick my eyes as he turned away from me.
“I… I’m sorry,” I told him, wrapping my arms around myself as a cold wind whipped past us.
My words made his head jerk back in my direction. “What?”
“I said I was sorry,” I repeated. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I just—”
“Wha-no,” he interrupted, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Wil… I’m sorry. Shit,” he cursed, more to himself than to me, then approached me, cupping my chin in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said again, looking me right in the eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, this is… this is my bad. I didn’t mean to blow up like that, I just… if you could see you how I see you…” he trailed off, like he didn’t know how to finish, but I didn’t need him to… I got it.
It was the same way I felt when it was Naima, or Soriyah. I hated it when they talked down on themselves, or downplayed their talent, or saw themselves as any less amazing than I did. It actually made me angry, because I never wanted to see them letting doubt settle in, or letting negativity change how they saw themselves. Because I loved them.
And honestly, the same went for Ramsey.
But… still…
“You yelled at me,” I protested, in my most pitiful voice, and his eyebrows drew together in guilty concern.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, then pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, followed by one that was more firm, which immediately melted my hurt feelings away. It was crazy how he managed to do that so well, but I wasn’t complaining. Not when he nibbled at my bottom lip for a second before he pulled it into his mouth, or when he slipped his tongue between my lips, tasting me. Not when his hands drifted to my waist, pulling me closer to him, or when I felt his hardness pressed against my leg.
“You see what you do to me?” he asked, then grazed my neck with his teeth. “If you want to make personal improvements, for you… I’ve got you. But just for the record, this body is perfect to me.”
I shook my head. “It’s not.”
“How are you gonna argue my opinion with me?” he chuckled, then lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed. “I’m sorry for going in on you like that though, seriously. I don’t like you beating yourself up, or letting any bullshit bring you down, but… it’s not cool for me to add to that by getting upset with you about it. You forgive me?”
I smiled. “I do. Soriyah threatened to “go upside my head” for pretty much the same thing, so if I’m not mad at her… I guess I can’t be mad at you.”
“Tell me how to make it up to you.”
He said that in a tone that made a tremble run up my spine, and I grinned. “Well… the other night, you did this thing with your tongue that—”
I stopped speaking as his cell phone started to ring in his gym bag a few feet away, and he groaned.
“Shit… I gotta at least see who it is. Give me a second, okay?”
“Of course.”
I watched as he jogged over to his bag, quickly digging the phone out, pressing the button to answer, and pulling it up to his ear. I wasn’t trying to be nosy, but the solemn expression that crossed his face as soon as he looked at the screen let me know it was important, and it didn’t shift. He spoke quietly to whoever it was, doing more listening than talking, and I had to force myself not to ease closer to hear. Several minutes into the call, he nodded, and I was watching hard enough to see a “Thank you” form clearly on his lips. A few seconds later, it was over, and he dropped the phone into his open bag, propping his hands at his hips.
“Ramsey,” I said, but he didn’t move. His head was hanging, which worried me, so I went ahead and moved closer until I saw that his lips were moving. He was… praying.
So I shut my mouth, and I waited. When he looked up, it was with clouded eyes, and an inscrutable expression that made me feel like my chest was about to burst. And then… he smiled. He smiled so big that it cut through the gloominess of the day, completely erasing my concerns that something was wrong.
“I… I got it,” he said, and I froze where I was standing.
“You got it? You got it?! That was the call?! From the Kings?!”
“Yes,” he growled, then threw his arms around me, lifting me up off the ground as I laughed.
“Yes!” I screamed, grabbing his face and pressing my lips to his. “I knew it! I knew you would get it!”
He was holding me around the thighs, putting me in a perfect position to rain kisses all over his face as he laughed. When he put me down, it seemed like it was only because he was so wired that he couldn’t keep still. I was so happy for him I could barely stand it myself, so him bumping his fists together, repeating, “I got it. I fucking got it” only seemed right.
“Hey,” I gushed, grabbing his hands. “You know training camp is right around the corner? Like, a few weeks from now, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah. That’s what Eli was telling me, that he wants me to start early, with the rookies, just so I can get re-acclimated.”
“Exactly,” I nodded. “And you know how tough it’s going to be.”
“Yeah…” he raised an eyebrow. “I do… but what are you getting at?”
I grinned. “What I’m getting at, is that… since training camp is right around the corner, and then you’ll be going into what’s probably going to be a really tough season… maybe you could use a little getaway first. Maybe… a little getaway with me? I’m thinking Bali.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about? Let’s back up – me and you, on a trip together? On your honeymoon trip together?”
I took a step away from him. “Oh, shit. Am I being weird? Am I freaking you out? Forget I asked, okay? It was just the heat of the moment, and I was excited, and—”
“Wil, relax. It’s not that,” he shook his head. “It’s just… I thought you were going on that trip by yourself, to take a breather, and reconnect, all of that.”
I shrugged. “Well, I was, but… the thought of that scares me, honestly. However, I do need this vacation, and with everything you have been through in the last year, you can’t tell me that you couldn’t use a break too.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I could, but… I don’t want to impose on your trip.”
“It wouldn’t be an imposition. If I went on this trip by myself, I’d probably spend the whole week crying about being alone. And if I don’t go, my vouchers will expire, and it’ll just be money blown. You’d be doing me a favor, honestly.”
“Wil…” he sighed. “I don’t know.”
I sidled up to him, pressing my chest to his. “What is it? You don’t want to spend your last week of freedom in paradise with your bestie? That is what you said I was, wasn’t it?”
“It is,” he agreed, planting his hands right above my ass. “I just want you to be sure about this before I agree.”
“I’m sure,” I whispered against his lips. “Now… if that’s settled… I’ve never had sex with an NFL player before.”
Ramsey’s response to that was to slide his hands lower and pick me up, draping me over his shoulder as easily as if I were his gym bag. He picked that up next, and started toward his truck, ignoring my half-laugh, half-screams.
“What are you doing! We weren’t finished working out!”
“We are now,” he said, then firmly smacked my ass. “We have other things to do.”
I giggled as he put me down beside the truck and opened the door for me. “Like what?”
“Well, I need to call Chloe, my aunt, and Clayton.”
My eyebrow went up. “Okay… what does that have to do with me?”
“Nothing,” he grinned. “But after that… I’m giving you enough dick to pay for my half of this trip to Bali.”