8. Pressure Mensah #2
We started off with squats, then hit push-ups, mountain climbers, and weight trainin’.
I wasn’t takin’ it easy on her, and to my surprise, she wasn’t askin’ for it.
She was sweatin’ hard, lips parted, breathin’ deep, and locked in like she had somethin’ to prove.
I didn’t miss the way she matched my pace.
I’d finish a set and she’d still be goin’.
I’d grunt from the weight, and she’d just shoot me a look like, “That’s it? ”
We fed off each other. The whole gym smelled like we was puttin’ in that work. Her body moved with purpose, and I couldn’t help but notice the stretch marks on her hips peeking from her waistband. Shit like that was sexy to me.
After a good hour of goin’ pound for pound, I walked over to the fridge, popped it open, and grabbed two waters. I tossed one to her, and she caught it without missin’ a beat. I cracked mine and took a swig, still breathin’ heavy.
“You smoke?” I asked, already reachin’ for my stash tucked behind the dumbbell rack.
Toni looked up and wiped sweat from her face with a towel. “Hell yeah,” she said. “Gimmie that.”
I passed her the weed and papers and sat back on the padded bench. “You know how to roll?”
She squinted like I just insulted her grandma. “Boy, yeah, I know how to roll. The fuck?”
I shook my head and handed it over. “We gon’ see.”
She sat across from me, cross-legged on the mat, and got to work. And I ain’t gon’ lie, she was good. She had fingers, a tight tuck and perfect finish. I raised my brow as she lit it and took the first pull.
“Damn,” I said. “You might’ve just rolled that shit better than me.”
“I know I did,” she said, exhalin’ slow.
“Girl, watch out,” I replied as I took the blunt from her, hit it, and leaned back. We passed it back and forth in silence for a moment before I spoke again.
“So what made you come here?” I asked. “To Trill-Land. To this whole… wild ass setup?”
She paused like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell me, then sat up a little straighter.
“I want somethin’ real,” she said. “I been tough my whole life, and just want a nigga that can put me in my softens.
I smirked and took another pull. “Oh yeah?”
She looked down for a second, then glanced at me again like she was tryin’ to gauge how honest she should really be.
“I know I’m not like the rest of these girls in here,” she said. “I ain’t delicate or soft-spoken. I’m not the one you bring out when you wanna flex for the cameras. I get all that.”
I took another hit, leanin’ forward a little. “You think I’m lookin’ for soft?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just know I’m not everybody’s type, and if I ain’t your type, I just wanna know now. Save us both the time.”
I smirked a little. “You do the most. You loud as fuck… wild… Got a mouth sharper than a muthafuckin’ blade.”
She tilted her head like she was bracin’ for the worst.
“But you cool,” I added. “You real, and I fuck with that.”
She smiled, not all big and dramatic like she usually do—just a small, quick curve of her lips before it faded. “I needed to hear that. I ain’t gon’ lie.”
She grabbed the joint from me and sat back like her mind was ‘bout to drift somewhere else.
“Truth is… I been through some shit. And when I say that, I don’t mean like heartbreak and petty drama. I mean real-life shit.”
“What type of shit? I’m listenin’”
She let the silence stretch a little before she started pourin’ her soul out to a nigga.
“I been molested by my own blood. My brothers, uncles... People that was supposed to protect me.”
Her voice didn’t shake, but it got lower.
“I had to fight grown-ass men off me before I even hit puberty. I learned early that nobody was comin’ to save me, so I had to save myself. I got loud. I got smart. I even got mean sometimes, but that’s how I survived.”
I looked at her, and just listened.
She looked over at me like she was searchin’ for judgment, but I ain’t have none to give.
“Damn… that shit ain’t turn you cold?”
“Hell yeah that shit did. I hated men for a long time. I ain’t trust nobody, and still don’t trust most people. But I been doin’ a lot of growin’… a lot of healin’ too.”
She exhaled and wiped the corner of her eye, but her voice stayed strong.
“I came here ‘cause I wanna know what it feel like to be loved by a man that ain’t gon’ use me or hurt me. I wanna feel safe, like I can stop holdin’ my damn breath all the time.”
I passed her the blunt again. “I hate you went through all that.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah. I hate it too, but I ain’t lettin’ it define me no more. I’m focused on what’s ahead.”
I sat forward, my elbows on my knees, watchin’ her close.
“You been through hell,” I said. “But you still showin’ up.”
“I ain’t got no choice,” she said, shruggin’.“But I ain’t just showin’ up for the world no more. I’m showin’ up for me now.”
That shit hit me… for real.
I ain’t say nothin’ else ‘cause sometimes silence said more than any words could.
She finished the blunt, crushed it in the ashtray, and stood up slowly.
I stood too. We walked toward the door, but before we reached it, she turned around, stepped close, and wrapped her arms around my neck.
Her body was still warm from the workout, and she smelled like cocoa butter, weed and sweat.
“I really enjoyed this,” she said. “The one-on-one. It meant somethin’.”
I didn’t hug her back right away, but I ain’t pull away either. I just stood there and let her hold me, ‘cause deep down, I needed that shit too.