Pretty

12. Drew

ONE WEEK LATER

Music poured from the speakers into my backyard, making the atmosphere lively and festive the way my sister planned. I was playing a game of bones with some of the fellas. The rest of my guests were playing cornhole, volleyball, dancing, or chilling at the pool.

I was in the midst of counting the money on the table when I froze.

That crazy shit was happening to me again.

I glanced up and saw her crossing her yard.

Her hands were shoved deep in the pockets of a blush pink colored jumpsuit.

She paired it with chocolate-brown sandals and chunky, chocolate-brown wooden bangles and earrings.

The top was made of lace, and the pant legs were wide and flowing.

Anytime Pretty came around, my entire being hummed with awareness.

It was like I became extremely alert, and all my senses came alive.

“Damn, she’s beautiful as hell,” Jamarian Strong remarked.

Jamarian had been a friend of mine for years. With eighteen championship belts between welterweight and light middleweight, a record of forty-one and four, he was on the brink of retiring from boxing. Women threw themselves at him all the time, and he collected them the same way he did his belts.

The difference between how we treated women was that I was honest about what I wanted from them and where they stood in my life.

Jamarian made women believe he was in love with them, wanted a relationship from them, and they were the only one.

I knew you didn’t have to lie to a woman to bed her.

If she was on the same wavelength, she would willingly give you what you wanted because she wanted it too.

He thought you had to lie to a woman to get between her legs.

There was no way I would let him go near Pretty. For all the damage he might cause if she were to even think about him, they would probably ban my ass from the community because of being associated with him.

“That’s my neighbor Pretty.”

A smirk tilted his lips. “She sure as hell is.”

Dani spotted her and immediately beelined in her direction. My sister never met a stranger. Pretty turned slightly when my sister approached her and extended her hand in greeting.

That was when I saw the back of her jumpsuit.

The little spaghetti straps on her shoulders tied in the middle of her back, which was bare except for the tie.

Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and the curls bounced off her shoulders.

Looking at her back and the arch just above her ass had my dick bricking up as memories of our weekend in Naples flooded my mind.

My sister said something, and Pretty angled her head slightly as she laughed. Whatever my sister said next had her completely open, as her head tilted back and she laughed harder.

“You gon’ throw that bone down or what?” Matt asked. His thick eyebrows furrowed down. Matt, Jason, and Jamarian had all arrived around the same time.

I forgot I was still clutching the domino in my hand.

“Nah, that nigga’s trying to figure out how to keep Jamarian from spitting game to old girl,” TeQuon Riley, a professional gambler, remarked.

I laughed. “Listen, they’re both grown-ass adults. If he can shoot his shot, and she goes for it, that’s on them. Twenty-five!” I shouted and slammed the domino on the table.

“That’s you, man?” Jamarian asked, glancing from me to Pretty.

I recalled her emphasis on the fact that we were friends and nothing more. I wanted to say “Hell, yeah, she’s mine,” but I had no right. Instead, I replied, “Nah, she’s my neighbor.”

Jamarian cupped his fist to his lips and chuckled. “So, she’s fair game?”

“She’s a lady, man, not a game. If you step your crude ass to her, come correct. She’s high class.”

He arched an eyebrow and looked at the other fellows at the table. “His ass is gone,” Jamarian professed. “I’ma back up.”

Everyone else muttered their agreement.

I ignored them with a shake of my head. “Your turn, dawg.” I nodded toward the table.

Everyone’s attention was back on the game, and for the moment Pretty was all but forgotten by the fellas. I stole a glance and saw that she was tied up with my sister and cousin, Anya, for the moment.

We finished the game five minutes later, and I grabbed my beer and headed over to Pretty.

Her head shifted slightly. It was so subtle it could have been missed, except I didn’t seem able to miss anything about that woman.

My sister touched her hand, and then she and Anya left.

“I hope they didn’t bore you,” I greeted, walking up from behind her to stand beside her.

“Not at all. They’re hilarious and gracious hosts, I might add.”

“Good.”

“I can’t say the same thing for the man of the house, though,” she added. A teasing grin danced at the corners of her lips.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you invited me, and I believe it took you all of fifteen minutes to come and say hello,” she explained with a glance at her watch.

“My bad. I was caught up in a game. I came as soon as we finished.”

She lifted an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. “A gracious host always excuses himself to welcome new guests, as your sister did.”

“I’ll remember that in the future. Would you like something to eat?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks. I just thought I’d come over to show my face.”

“I appreciate that. How about something to drink? I’ve got wine, bottled water, juices—all the things you like.”

“How do you know my favorite things to drink?”

“I pay attention. I know what you like.”

“Mm. You’re not the only one.”

“Oh yeah? What do I like to drink?”

“Cognac and any form of sports drinks that happens to be red. Oh yeah, and bottled water.”

“A’ight. So you’ve been checking a brother out,” I replied and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Something like that.”

“Do you know my favorite colors?” I asked.

“Gold and black.”

“Damn. You do be checking a brother out.”

“I care about you, Drew, and I care about what matters to you. I bet you don’t know mine.”

“Blush pink and chocolate brown.”

“Lucky guess because I’m wearing them today.”

“Nope, you mentioned it in Naples, and I didn’t forget.”

“Wow. Okay, I’m impressed. Even though you had no idea you’d see me again.”

“I hoped.”

“I’ll take some wine,” she stated, changing the subject.

I grabbed her hand and led her to the bar that was set up. I requested a glass of red wine from the bartender we’d hired for the event and passed it to her. She took a sip, smiled, and declared, “Nice.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna show up. You really should grab a bite to eat,” I encouraged and grabbed her hand.

It was warm and soft in mine, and I didn’t want to let it go.

“No, really, I’m fine.”

“Okay, then if you won’t eat, the least you can do is dance with me,” I pleaded.

She laughed. “I can’t dance.”

“You can’t dance; you can’t eat. What is it that you can do, miss lady, other than paint?”

The smile dropped from her face, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you mocking me, Drew?”

“I would never do that, beautiful. Just wondering is all.”

“Why can’t painting be enough?”

“Who says it isn’t?”

“That’s what you insinuated.”

“I feel as if there are layers to you, and I just want to peel them back, Pretty.”

“What if I don’t want to be peeled?”

I could have made so many remarks to that, but I chose not to. “I’m not asking you to drop the brush and become a ballerina. I’m just saying, come have a little fun. That’s all.”

“Let me finish my wine, and I will.”

“A’ight. In the meanwhile, my mama is beckoning us to her. Let me introduce you to my parents and then we can have some fun.”

“Oooh, so we're at the meeting your parents stage, huh?” she teased.

“If that woman is in the same space with you, there’s no way around meeting her.”

We stopped at my parents’ table, and I introduced her to my parents and aunts and uncles.

“She’s beautiful, and I get good vibes off her. I love your energy, baby,” Mama declared. “You live in that house over there?” Mama asked, pointing at Pretty’s house.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“See, baby, and she’s got her own,” she declared as she started singing Jamie Foxx’s song.

“Maaa.” I groaned.

“All right, Queenie. That’s enough, baby,” my dad warned as he kissed my mama’s cheek.

“What? I’m just trying to show him there is a certain group of women out here that have something to offer other than just what’s between their thighs,” Mama declared.

“You better say that again,” Aunt Clara stated.

“Listen, I just came to introduce you to my neighbor,” I stated, trying to stop them before they started.

“Well, I haven’t seen you introducing us to any other neighbors,” Mama quipped.

“I don’t know my other neighbors,” I replied.

“And that’s the point that I’m making,” Mama countered.

“Did you all enjoy your tickets to the throwback concert?” Pretty asked my parents.

“That was you who got us those tickets?” my dad asked.

“Yes, sir. He told me you all loved old-school R and B too.”

“See what I’m saying, Lan?” Mama asked my dad.

“Yeah. I see exactly what you’re saying,” Coach replied, smirking.

“A’ight. Y’all got it. I’m out.”

“What? We can’t be happy when our baby finally finds a good woman?” Mama asked.

“Whoop!” Aunt Clara declared.

“You better take good care of a woman like that. Someone might snatch her off your arm, and it might be an older, good-looking nigga with lots of money,” Uncle James declared, removing his wallet and flipping through some old twenties.

“Nigga, she don’t want yo’ old rotten smelling ass,” Uncle Richie argued.

“A’ight, y’all. We’re out,” I stated, grabbing Pretty’s hand and not waiting for anyone to respond. The moment we stepped away, I heard their asses snickering.

“I love your family,” Pretty declared.

“And that right there is why I don’t bring anyone home to meet them,” I explained, bobbing my head at them. She and I stood several feet away watching them get their kicks from embarrassing me.

“I think they’re adorable. They meant well.”

“Meant to embarrass me,” I countered.

“How about I give you that dance now?” she suggested with a sparkle in her eyes.

I took the empty wineglass from her hand and set it on a picnic table we were passing, and I tossed my empty beer bottle into a nearby trash can.

The deejay had been playing old hits for a minute. Chris Brown’s “Wall to Wall” was blaring from the speaker, and I led Pretty to the dance floor that I had installed.

I was amused at her stiffness. Baby girl wasn’t lying when she said that she couldn’t dance.

I’d always been a great dancer, and it served me well on the field.

I moved around her in smooth-ass moves that I knew made her look good as well.

It didn’t matter if she couldn’t dance. All she had to do was stand there and look cute.

She did at first, but halfway through the song, her shoulders loosened, and her hips swayed from side to side.

An amused smile turned her lips up, and her arms and hands flowed to the beat of the music.

Her moves slowly transitioned, and I was stunned.

She was mimicking my moves, and I’d be damned if she didn’t have them down.

Her lying ass did know how to dance; she’d just wanted to clown me.

I couldn’t help but laugh and smile. A crowd grew around us, but she was focused on me and not the crowd. Who would have known that Miss Prim and Proper could loosen up like that?

When the song ended and the crowd applauded us, her eyes grew wide with shock. A slow smile grew on her face as she laughed and placed her hands to her face. When her eyes sparkled with amusement as she stared at me, I pulled her to my body, wrapped her up, and rested my chin on her head.

“Mhm. Okay, they’re just neighbors,” I heard Mama say as she walked by us.

I chuckled and Pretty looked up at me.

I grabbed her hand and led her away from the dance floor, and others poured onto the floor to dance.

“Aren’t you glad you came?”

Her green eyes warmed with affection, and she bit her bottom lip. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming.”

She made her way to a table with my sister and female cousins. I watched as she chatted with them before I headed back to the guys. I couldn’t help but recognize how good it felt to see her blending with my family.