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“Good morning, JuMarion.”
I ain’t say shit.
“Your mother has been making quite a few phone calls this morning.”
My stomach dropped. “Man, she just worried ’bout me. I was drunk last night, and I said some shit I ain’t mean.”
“Apparently, she was concerned enough to contact the university. And the police.”
“Look, I already talked to her. I told her ain’t nothin’ goin’ on.”
“Then why is she asking questions about me?”
I rubbed my hand down my face. “’Cause I said your name. That’s it. She ain’t know nothin’.”
“Be careful with your words, JuMarion. You don’t know what your mother knows. You know what you’ve told her.”
“Yusef, I got it handled.”
“No. You don’t. If you did, I wouldn’t be receiving calls about a woman accusing me of holding her son against his will.”
I closed my eyes.
“Listen to me carefully,” he continued. “Your mother loves you. I understand that. But she’s involving herself in matters she doesn’t understand.”
“She ain’t involved in shit. Leave her outta this.”
“Then make sure she stays out of it.”
“I’m tellin’ you, I got her.”
“Good. Because I would hate for your family to suffer over a misunderstanding.”
My jaw tightened. “The fuck that’s supposed to mean?”
“It means you should get yourself together. You have practice tomorrow, and I expect you there.”
“Yusef—”
“Enjoy the rest of your day, JuMarion.”
The call ended, and I felt somethin’ sharp in my chest. I sat there with the phone against my ear, knowing damn well that wasn’t a misunderstanding. That nigga just threatened my mother.
I woke up clutchin’ my chest, breathin’ heavy as fuck. Every dream about that shit still felt real. It didn’t matter how many years passed, I was twenty-one again, beggin’ Mommy to let that shit go. The sheets clung to my body, damp and heavy from my sweat. I snatched them back and sat up on the edge of the bed.
My phone lit up on the nightstand. It was just past 9:00 a.m., and I ain’t close my eyes until 6:00. Sleep ain’t come easy last night. It took everything in me not to go across the hall and bang on Juicy’s door. I texted her that I was sorry… But I wasn’t. She wanted to kiss me, but I wanted it more. I still wanted that shit.
That was the problem. Wanting her, knowing what I knew, didn’t make sense. But the heart don’t give a fuck about that. Mine damn sure didn’t. The longer she sat across from me at that restaurant, the harder it was for me to keep a distance between us. Now, I knew I wasn’t trippin’. Juicy wanted me too. Her body told all her secrets. The way she held her breath when I got too close. How she tried to act irritated with me, so I’d pull away. But I couldn’t risk losin’ her to this shit. No matter how tempting it was to feel what I felt for Juicy, I had to close it off.
I dragged my ass outta bed and headed to the bathroom. The mirror always told the truth. I wasn’t gettin’ enough sleep, stress wasn’t helpin’, and no matter what, I had to keep movin’. Once I took care of that, I threw on some shorts, grabbed my phone and keycard, and headed to the gym. I stood in the hall for a second, starin’ at Juicy’s door, but kept movin’ ’cause she ain’t need me complicating her life.
The elevator was already open when I got there, so I stepped inside. Two people stood off to the side, lookin’ at me like they ain’t never seen a nigga before. I put in my AirPods and ignored them. I walked into the gym, grabbed a towel, and headed straight for the free weights. Wasn’t too many people in there, which was exactly how I liked it.
I started with dumbbell bench presses, knocking out three sets of ten before moving on to hammer curls. Normally, I’d push harder, but I barely had enough sleep to function, let alone do a full workout. I just needed somethin’ to occupy my mind. That shit wasn’t workin’, either.
Every time I put the weights down, my thoughts went right back to Juicy. How close she was last night. The way she looked at my mouth before pulling away. I finished my last set and sat on the bench, reaching for my water when my phone vibrated beside me.
Ni: Are you having fun with Juicy?
