Luxe (12 page)

This time, for some reason, she believed him.

“What do you do?” she asked as she looked at him in awe. “I mean you're what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five? You drive nice cars, have money, clothes, a business.”

“I'm twenty-six and I make good investments, that's all,” he said vaguely.

“Good investments?” she asked suspiciously.

“I'm a genius when it comes to a flip,” he said. “I buy low and sell high.”

“Smart man,” she said while peering at him curiously. She could tell that he was holding back, feeding her only the information that he wanted her to know, but she didn't pry. She liked him. She hadn't meant to—in fact, she really didn't even want to—but his entire personality was appealing. “So what, are we going to have an imaginary picnic on the beach or are you going to actually feed me?” She smiled, genuinely smiled, and it felt so foreign on her face that she reached up to touch her lips. She realized that this had been the first day since getting shot that she had actually felt carefree.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into him swiftly before tucking her under one shoulder as they walked toward the pier. “You not one of them diet girls, are you?”

“No.” She chuckled. “I have to feed my curves.” She stuck her tongue between her teeth and squinched her face jokingly, causing him to laugh. He pulled her in, kissing her forehead, sending chills up her spine.

“You're perfect, Bleu,” he responded.

“You have no idea how false that is,” she replied.

They walked onto the busy pier and each grabbed a burger and fries and on the open patio, taking in the breeze.

“You're definitely not the salad type. You wasn't lying,” he cracked on her, causing her mouth to drop open in feigned offense. She threw one of her fries at him as they shared a laugh. She had never had so much fun. They ate and explored together and he allowed her to see the pier through a tourist's eyes, never losing his patience with her. Despite the fact that he had been there a million times, he did it all again without rushing her through the experience. Before they knew it, hours had passed. Time flew when in the presence of good company. As they sat at the top of the Ferris wheel, Bleu looked up at the setting sun.

“Sunrise can't be any more beautiful than this sunset,” she whispered, sitting close to him as she stared out into the sky.

“I have a much better view,” he replied. She looked up and caught him looking down at her; the way he rubbed her shoulders protectively made her move in closer. It was the most amazing day she had ever had. This connection with him was more than a spark. She could feel it in her bones.

She waited for him to kiss her, she silently screamed for him to make a move, but he didn't. He was trying the gentleman thing, but at that moment she just wanted to feel his lips on hers. She leaned into him, making the first move as her mango-flavored lips covered his. Her panties soaked instantly when his tongue slid into her mouth. Sensual, slow, seductive … he grabbed the back of her neck as he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth. She couldn't stop her heart from racing as pure attraction coursed through her veins. He made her feel like the prettiest girl in the world. The way his attention never wavered, the way he had walked all day with his hand on the small of her back, the way he touched her fingers lightly when they walked. It was as if he had to be touching her in some way. It wasn't overly mushy or corny, just a slight reminder that he was at her side. She loved the way he made her feel. They had just met; she could only imagine the way he would treat someone he considered to be his girl.
Wait,
she thought.
There is no way that he doesn't have a girlfriend. A girl like Aysha. Some model chick that I can't compete with.
She pulled away from him, suddenly tensing as the Ferris wheel lowered to let them off.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied as she wrapped her arms around herself.

He could see her overthinking. He could see the stress in her shoulders as she stood and rushed off the ride.

“Bleu!” he shouted. The authority in his voice brought her to a halt.

She turned to him.

“Where are you at, ma? You went inside your head for a split second and came back different. What's the problem?” he asked.

She folded her hands across her chest and said, “Nothing, it's just getting late. I have an early class in the morning. Can we go?”

He closed the space between them and stood dangerously close. It was a habit that she was noticing. He never left her room to feel disconnected, and every time he touched her her breathing grew shallow.

“Don't lie to me, Bleu … ever … that's the one thing that I can't respect. Whether it's a small lie or a big lie, it's all the same to me. So tell me what's real or don't say nothing,” he said.

She sighed and lowered her gaze, looking at her feet. He lifted her chin with his finger. He was so intense, so in control. “Today has been great. Being with you, kissing you. You make me feel like I'm your girl, but I know that I'm not. I won't ever be. You probably have some chick waiting for you to come home right now. A girl who wears makeup and who carries Chanel bags and wears six-inch heels. Some glamorous model or actress or singer probably. I can't compete with girls like that. I'm just a broke girl from the hood barely making it.”

“If I wanted that, I could have that,” he said. “But I'm here with you. I'm a busy man, Bleu. I don't have too many days open for lounging at the beach. I did this because I wanted to do it with you. I wanted to be a part of that memory for you. You're so different than any of these L.A. women. That's a good thing, ma. You talk about yourself like your dreams aren't worth shit. You're dope, ma, and I'm feeling the shit out of you. That whole broke, college-struggle thing is kind of fly. In a world of airheads and sack chasers, ambition and intellect are attractive. I'm not going to lie to you. My life is complicated. You're young. I don't really want to put these grown-man problems on your plate. If I could, I would erase you from my memory, but the truth is … I can't stop thinking about you.”

“You have your pick and you choose plain Jane, huh?” she asked, wearing her insecurities on her sleeve.

“Other women can't compete where they don't compare, Bleu.”

If he was gaming her, he was doing a good-ass job. He was talking that good talk, blowing up her head, and she was falling for every word. She kissed him and the way his hands wrapped around her behind, pulling him into her, made her moist with curiosity. It wasn't disrespectful or demeaning, the way most dudes made her feel. He was a grown man, and the way he held her made her feel like he was staking his claim. He made her want
it
in the worst way.

It was Iman who pulled back this time. Bleu was a young woman. He had almost ten years on her. She was so freshfaced, so innocent … he almost felt guilty for being attracted to her. He knew that he would have to be extremely delicate with how he played things with her. Girls her age loved the hardest, and before he made her fall for him he had to be sure that he was going to catch her. It wasn't his M.O. to run around breaking hearts, especially not one as lovely as hers. He didn't want to be responsible for the change that came with heartbreak. If they were going to do this, he was going to move slowly, at Bleu's pace, and with extreme caution. So as much as he wanted to take her back to his place and explore the depths between her thighs, he resisted. He was walking a fine line. The media would slay him if they ever caught wind of his pretty little college girl. “You got that early class, right? I better get you back to the dorms,” he said.

“What exactly are we doing?” she asked unsurely.

“I don't know, but whatever it is, I don't plan to stop unless you want me to,” he replied. He had not been this intrigued with a female in a long time. Even vixens his age hadn't had the power to give him tunnel vision, but Bleu had caught him by surprise. He saw only her. “Do you want me to put the brakes on this, ma? I can't promise you dealing with me and my circumstances will be easy. So if you ever want me to step off, you got to tell me. Cuz when I look at you it's hard for me to walk away … it's hard for me to stop. Even though I know I should,” he whispered, his voice pained, as if resisting her was torture. He caressed her neck, leaving tingles of pleasure on her skin.

“Why should you?” she asked.

“Because I'm no good for you. There are things that if you knew you—”

“There is nothing that I could find out that would make me not want to be with you. I don't want you to stop, Iman,” she replied, breathing heavy, as if the air had suddenly thickened.

He kissed her, attacking her lips as passion coursed through his body and pushed her against the rails to the pier. She hungrily kissed him back, the heat between them scorching.

“Agh,” she moaned as he bit her bottom lip softly. Her head was spinning. “I have to go,” she whispered. “Can this … Can we just do this slow?”

He placed his forehead against hers and exhaled. “Slow,” he confirmed.

*   *   *

Bleu couldn't erase the smile from her face if she tried, and when Iman pulled up in front of her dorm she barely wanted to get out of the car.

“I'll talk to you later, a'ight?” he said. “Don't worry if I don't call soon. I have some business to take care of out of town. I'll check for you when I get back. Cool?” She nodded but suddenly grew insecure. She felt like she was being dumped, and they weren't even close to being anything official yet. He saw the look of uncertainty and he grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it. “I'll tell you what. Whenever I cross your mind, you call me. I'll answer,” he assured her.

He leaned over and kissed her again before she exited the car.

He didn't pull off until she was safely inside. When she watched his taillights pull away she put her back against the door, swooning as she looked up to the sky in excitement. The energy between them had her giddy, and she jumped up and down in delight, having a mini dance party by herself. Another student came walking by and Bleu snapped out of it, slightly embarrassed, and hurried up to her room while laughing at herself. It was like suddenly the pressure of being in Cali had lifted off her. It was then that she realized she had been shouldering the burden alone. For so long she had always had Noah to share her fears with; now that he was gone, she was overwhelmed, but Iman seemed to be the perfect substitute. She took out her student I.D. and swiped it on the door lock to her room.

“Umm, where the hell have you been? It's about time you came home. You need to find something to do with all this shit. It's like Christmas in this bitch,” China said as she motioned to Bleu's side of the room.

Bleu frowned in confusion as she spotted the mess that sat on top of her bed. Gift boxes of all sizes took up the space, and she shook her head. “This has got to be a mistake,” she said.

“Nope, two guys delivered all that stuff like an hour ago. They asked for you by name,” China replied.

Bleu walked over to the gifts and began to open each one. She was baffled, as everything she could ever need for her dorm room rested inside the packages. There were bed linens, towels, notebooks, pencils, even soaps and personal items. A laptop and printer sat on her desk, while a new mini-fridge nestled underneath. Tears came to her eyes when she found the note that was buried under the chaos.

It simply read:
From Iman.

She knew that he hadn't written it, because he had been with her all day, but he had made the arrangements and footed the bill for her to have everything she could even possibly think of needing. He had set her up for college, and these gifts were more thoughtful than any handbag or pair of shoes ever would be. He had noticed a need and fulfilled it.
Where the hell did this man come from?
she thought, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

“Who is it from?” China asked, slightly jealous as she looked at the expensive items. Iman had spared no expense.

“A friend,” Bleu answered softly.

“What kind of friend does all this?” China asked skeptically.

Bleu turned to her and replied, “A good one.”

 

10

Noah cringed as he stepped under the cold stream of water, his bare feet hitting the cruddy tile. He wasn't used to five-star anything, but the conditions of the prison were barely up to code. Being locked down made him feel like an animal. The inmates around him had the same distant look that he remembered seeing in impounded dogs. They were forgotten, unwanted, discarded. He knew years of being behind the wall would give him the same lost perspective if he didn't keep his mind together. He kept his back to the faucet so that he could keep his eyes on everything that moved around him. Without commissary he was living on scraps and barely surviving. His hands lathered his muscular body as his eyes stayed trained on the door. He had picked up a few pounds, but it was all muscle. He was his own team, his own army, and he trained his body daily to make sure that he wasn't weak. No amount of muscle in the world could fight off his new enemy, however. Noah's heartbeat rapidly increased as his internal radar sounded off when he saw the tough guy from the cafeteria walk through the door. Had he walked in alone, Noah wouldn't have been bothered, but with a gang of niggas behind him, Noah knew what time it was. The way that the rest of the inmates began to clear out and how the guard slyly eased his way out, Noah knew it was a setup. COs were as grimy as the inmates. His protection was in his own hands, and as he stepped out of the shower he felt naked for more than the obvious reasons. They had caught him slipping, and when he saw the sharpened end of a toothbrush slip from under the tan sleeve of the man he had beaten, he knew that this was an uneven match.