Gettin' Hooked (10 page)

I let
us into the condo, feelin' a little weird about bringin' him inside, unsure of what Gram would say to Maurice, about him being there. It was dark as usual, with just pale bluish light seeping into the front rooms from Gram's. Snoop was spittin' softly from my room.

I'd bounced outie so fast that I hadn't even bothered to turn off my stereo or power down the computer.

“Come here,” I said, flickin' on a light and angling my head toward Gram's door, feelin' like I should intro Maurice to my Gram.

Maurice followed where I led without askin' questions or bein' asked twice, and I couldn't help grinning 'bout that even though the entire situation was whack. He'd changed out of sweats and into baggie faded Rocawear jeans while I'd waited in his car for him to get a few of his things. He looked hella good, his fade tight, rocks blinging on his ears, his smile ready and focused on me.

I shook my head, trying to quit peepin' 'im out and think about gettin' on the road. This was goin' to be frickin' hard, looking my Gram in the face and straight-up lying, but I had to. For Kayla.

I took a big breath and held it for a quick sec before letting it out crazy slow. Rappin' my hand against her door, I peeked inside just as her chair swiveled toward me. “Imani, baby, what is it?”

“Hey, Gram. I have someone here I want you to meet.”

“Oh, okay, baby,” she said, standing up and moving toward the door as I opened it farther. I knew when she caught her first glimpse of Maurice 'cause her eyes narrowed and her salt-and-pepper brows came together as her gaze landed on him.

“Who's your little boyfriend?” she asked, keeping her eyes on him, her face tilted up 'cause he was so much taller.

Nerves kept me from bustin' on her calling Maurice little, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from correcting her on the
boyfriend
thang. “Gram, this is Maurice Simms. Lives across from Kayla.” I turned to him. “Maurice, my gram.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, putting out his hand, his tone and gesture polite and fallin' into what Gram would expect.

“What you planning for Imani?” Gram's eyes remained narrowed and fixed on him, her words laced with suspicion. “She don't mess with no boys, not you, either.”

I coughed. “Gram, I'm not messin' with Maurice. He's just a friend. He's giving me a lift to Kayla.” I purposely left off mentioning her crib since I was tryin' to be vague enough to shade the lies.

But here came the biggie. “You're all right here on your own for a few days, aren'tcha, Gram? I'm gonna get a few thangs and hang with Kayla for a few days while her parents are out of town. Is that cool with you?” Had it been any one of my other girls, she'd have suggested having 'em stay here with us while their parents were gone. She wouldn't do that with Kayla, so I was chill there.

“I'm grown, Imani. Don't need you babysitting me.” She replied. Her gaze drifted slowly off Maurice, catching my eyes right quick before her gaze drifted back to him. “He's not staying there, too, is he?”

My cheeks burned hella hot. “No, Gram, he's not stayin' at Kayla's.

“Well, all right, baby. You don't get in no trouble.” She gave me a slight embrace, and I held her tight, guilt eating an ugly dark hole in my gut. I hated lying to her, and there was this little naggin' feeling that she already knew.

I kissed her cheek as she shifted back into her room, her attention leaving me as she focused on Maurice. “Don't be getting my baby into no mess, you hear?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Nah, Maurice hadn't caused the mess.

I had.

Gram shook her head, her slight shoulders looking more frail than usual, her eyes watering slightly from the light. Without saying anything else, she moved farther into her room and eased the door mostly closed again.

Grippin' my bottom lip between my teeth, I steadied my breaths and tried to get rid of the heat stainin' my cheeks, but kept my eyes averted from Maurice.

After a quick sec, I gathered myself and glanced up at him, to find him staring at me all hexa intensely. I cleared my throat, then kept my voice low so Gram wouldn't hear. “She's always warnin' me ta stay away from fellas. That was easy compared.”

He chuckled. “My dad's the same. Always says girls are a path to trouble.” He grinned a hella wicked smile that made his dimples deepen, then leaned close so he could whisper in my ear, “Makes sure I carry caps.”

I jerked away from him too damn fast and smacked the back of my head on the door frame, a spark of pain on my scalp accompanied a shiver that flashed across my skin. I knew the caps he was talkin' 'bout were condoms, not the bottle kind. “Um…um…lemme get some stuff.”

I moved past him, farther into the shadows of the hallway and toward my room where Ne-Yo sang his heart out on the radio. I felt him move behind me, his footfalls silent on the thick carpeting.

“Imani? Am I allowed back here?”

I knew what he was asking. Was I allowed to have him in my room and did I want him following. Had my daddy been at the skizouse there's no way Maurice would even be within ten feet of my room, but Daddy wasn't here and Gram was back in her room with the door closed.

Besides, nothing was going to happen between us, though I was still workin' over the condom comment in my brain. I wasn't a bopper, but I was pretty damn sure that Maurice knew that and wouldn't be trying nothing or thinking he was gonna get something from me.

Snap, he'd be getting nothing I didn't wanna give, and I sure didn't give it up easy. And not to dudes who were playas. But straight up, there was really no harm allowin' him into my room. I was just gonna toss some stuff in my pack and then we'd be alone on the road for hours together.

“Sure, come on.” I opened my door and clicked on a light as I kicked off my shoes.

He'd followed close enough that I could feel his heat and smell his cologne. Feelin' warm deep in my belly, I glanced at the bed, then steadied my breaths.

Walking away from him, I grabbed my pack and set it open on a chair, then started swooping items from around my room and shoving them inside. Maurice just kinda stood at the door, lookin' slightly outta place against the pink bedding and walls covered with my boo, Usher.

I couldn't help grinning as I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I pulled panties and a clean bra from my drawer. And I picked sexy stuff, too, just feeling the need to tease him a little as I waved them around before they landed inside the canvas bag.

After going into the connecting bathroom and swiping some junk from there that was also added to my backpack, I shoved my feet into different tennies and yanked a jacket outta my closet.

“Hey, do you need gas money?” I asked, unable to keep the tint of excitement from my voice. Drivin' off with Maurice hadn't been a planned thang, and it sure wasn't for a good reason, but I'd be straight lying if I didn't think it was kinda hot.

Muscular shoulders rolled with his slight shrug. “I got some scratch. If you have some, you should probably bring it. No tellin' how much we'll need.”

“Fo' sho', I've got plenty.” I moved to my desk and lifted my Visa card that my daddy kept well supplied with Benjamins. I had some cash, too, and snagged that out of my purse and transferred it all into the front pocket of the single bag I was taking.

“I need to check my e-mail and see if James has replied.” Flicking the mouse to fire up the computer out of sleep mode, I plopped down into the chair and scrolled over to my in-box, holdin' my breath that there'd be something from either Kayla or the dude she'd split for.

“That's Kayla's friend, right?”

“Yup.”

“Anything?”

There was a frickin' ton of messages, most of them my girls wanting to get at my dudes, wannabe-hooked folks from my Web site. I moved through them, lookin' at the addies, but didn't see a thing I needed to.

My chest burned and despite being kinda hyped on this trip now, the back of my eyes burned and my throat felt hella thick, tight with worry and emotion. “Nah, nada.”

“You should print out James's contact info and do a MapQuest to the campus.”

“Good thinking.” I converted info to printable files, then sent it to my Epson.

He'd moved in close, and knelt behind me. “See, shortie, I'm good for something.”

When he spoke the warm wash of his breath caressed my skin, scurrying down my back. I shivered slightly, than glanced over my shoulder into his dark shimmering eyes.

He was so close that with a little lean I could have closed the distance and kissed him. To keep from doing it, I bit my lip again, and half smiled. “Drive me there, and I guess we'll see just how good for somethin' ya are.”

I'd meant it to be teasin' but instead it sounded hella serious and kinda sexual, the way his gaze kept lingerin' on my mouth, followed by the way he licked his lips like I wanted to.

“All gravity, baby girl, I'll get you there.”

His words felt so good I think I kinda half moaned when I sighed out a little breath.

There was somethin' else I had to do before we bounced. “Can you take my stuff done to your car? I wanna say goodbye to my Gram.”

“Fa sheezy.” He looked at me right quick, then brushed a couple wild ringlets of my crazy-ass curls off my forehead and tucked them behind my ear. He started pushing off his knees to get to his feet, but paused halfway up, leaning toward me; his mouth touched the skin, right where his fingertips had been a second before.

The contact was light and quick, but hella tender, too. When he stood up all the way he was grinning wide, but turned away fast, swiped the papers from the printer and swooped my pack, zippin' it up as he walked toward my bedroom door. “Aiight, I'll be waitin' in the ride for ya.”

I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath till he quit the room and my chest started burning. Lettin' the whoosh of air escape my lungs, I turned back to my computer and clicked through pages until I was at Darian's. A couple more clicks, I was in his contact page, my fingers shakin' hella bad as I thought over my message.

I fo' sho' hadn't made the boy any promises and no damn commitments, but since I had teased him at the pallay—
and
kissed him—there was just somethin' in me that felt it only right to let the boy off the hook. I just couldn't think ‘bout going off with one guy when another maybe thought he'd be startin' somethin' up with me.

Not a benda, and not a playa, either, I had to pick a guy, and if I was admittin' shit, I'd say that deep down I'd already chose. Darian never stood a chance.

And even with his “baby-girl,” “shortie,” and “mines” nicknames, Maurice hadn't said squat about me being his girl.

Steadying my fingers, I typed, “Hey Darian, please don't be mad, but the chillin' thang isn't gonna work out. You're hot though, boy, and beezies will be linin' up to talk to you. Hope you understand. Pixx Imani.”

Hitting Send felt kind of liberatin', like a weight off my shoulders. No matter what happened with me and Maurice, I knew in my heart that Darian wasn't the guy for me, that he wasn't meant to be my prom date and it was best to nip it now before he felt I was leadin' him on.

My body shook slightly as I stood, my nerves jittering through my system; then, glancin' around my space, I peeped out everything to make sure I hadn't forgotten somethin' important.

When I was sure I hadn't, I took a deep breath and walked out the door. It was time to step, time to meet Maurice in the car.

“Imani.”

I heard my name through the fog of sleep, rich and low and whispered close to my ear.

“Imani? Wake up.”

Slowly his voice intruded on my dreams and I became away of the cool glass pressed against my forehead and the seat belt keeping me from completely slumpin' over in the seat.

“Hmm?” I turned slowly in the seat and opened my eyes.

“You know how to drive, shortie?”

Rubbing my palm against my eyes, I wiped away the remaining sleep and took in the sight of Maurice, his face illuminated only by the pale green light coming from the dash. He'd removed his zip-up jacket and now just wore a Tupac T-shirt, some bling encrusted into the cotton settin' off the rocks heavy on his earlobes.

His gaze was intent, but tired. The whites of his eyes a little bloodshot.

“How to drive?”

“Yeah, can you drive?”

I shook my head. Hella lame, I know, but I've always been kinda afraid to learn. “No.”

He sighed and I saw his shoulders slump some. “Don't be mad, girl, but we have to stop. I need some sleep.”

And I could hear it in his voice, too. In the way he sagged in his seat.

For the first time, I pulled my gaze off his hexa cute face and glanced out the blackened reflective window. We'd pulled off Interstate 5 and were parked in a parking lot. An Exxon station was across the street, a Burger King's neon sign blinkin' on the car window, along with an entrance to a Holiday Inn.

“Where are we?”

“Just a little south of Bakersfield.”

“Oh.” We'd been driving a lot longer than it felt. Once we'd stepped from my condo, we'd filled his car with gas and picked up some pops and water for the ride. By the time we hit the highway, it'd been nearly nine o'clock. Glancing at the digital clock on his stereo, I saw it was now pushing two.

I sat up a little in my seat. “I didn't realize we'd been drivin' so long.”

His hand touched my cheek, his thumb gently smoothing across my lips. “You fell asleep pretty quick.”

I felt heat on my cheeks and was thankful for the darkness so he couldn't see the pink stains taint my skin. “Sorry.”

He smiled. “You're cute asleep. Nibble on your lip sometimes, it's sexy as hell.”

I grinned back, the pink turnin' downright red as warmth uncurled down my spine. He'd been really looking to notice my habit of sucking on my lips in my sleep. I guess hella better than snorin' or grinding teeth.

“Were you watching the road at all?”

He laughed. “Not really.”

“Oh.” I hadn't expected him to admit checkin' on me as he drove. “You wanna get a room?” I asked to change the subject but it just deepened the intensity of his expression.

After a sec he said, “If you're uncomfortable, we can just sleep in the car for a minute. I can't drive farther tonight, though, Imani. You chill with that?”

“Yeah, I know. You're tired.” I looked at the hotel, the long two-story building was sportin' hella rows of windows, each a room. “If we sleep here and leave in the morning, how long do you think before we hit 'Zona?”

He shrugged. “I think we're 'bout halfway, but I'm not sure. I'd say by afternoon.”

“Aiight.” Releasing my belt, I reached into the backseat and grabbed my backpack, then opened the door to step out. “A telly it is.”

Maurice didn't say anything as he left the car, hit the alarm on his key entry remote, then came to my side. We walked together through the dimly lit parking lot toward the Holiday Inn.

At this time of night the lobby was all locked up and registration was a tiny little whack window, with a bell to let the attendant know we were there. It took a hella long time to rouse an older woman to come to the window to help us out.

She was eyeing us all suspicious-like when she asked, “What do you need?”

Um…what the—? I felt like askin' for a cheeseburger or a Slurpee, 'cause come on, we were at a hotel. How dumb did the woman have to be not to know we wanted a room? I kept my mouth shut, though. I was hella frickin' grouchy and I didn't want the bootch to send us away.

“We need a room,” Maurice replied before I could.

“ID and credit card.”

He took out his ID and plopped it on the counter, sliding it under the low window. “Can I pay cash?”

“I have my card.” I bent to fiddle in the front pocket of my pack. Retrieving the Visa my daddy kept full of grip, I put it on the counter.

The woman picked up both, her stare steady as she held both cards next to each other, then turned her narrowed eyed glare on us. “You're not old enough to get a room.”

A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, Maurice's strong fingers drawing a slow circle on my upper back. “We're married.”

I stopped breathing, and shit, I think my heart jammed up, too, but I kept my face emotionless, working hard to not show my surprise.

“The names aren't the same,” she replied, angling the ID and Visa our way to indicate what she was talking about.

“It hasn't been long 'nough to fix that.”

His hand had slid from my upper back, down my side and now rested lazily on my hip, his fingers creeping up and touchin' skin below the hem of my shirt. Looping his thumb into my pants, he scooted me a little closer, but kept his hand in place even when there was no frickin' gap between us.

After a sec, the woman nodded and started typing into her computer. “Is the address correct?” she asked. Maurice kept on dealin' with her, but their words faded out as my pulse rushed hella loud in my ears.

We were gettin' a room and in a quick sec we'd be handed the key. So I stood there at Maurice's side as the attendant swiped my card and had me sign, though I had a straight-up hard time moving, my knees hecka tremblin' and my hands shaking as I signed the slip.

I mean, dayum, I was gettin' a room with a dude.

A few more minutes and Maurice had his hand linked with mine, his warm palm pressed tightly against my skin, his fingers laced between mine.

I dropped into step beside him as he guided us to our room, then slid the thin plastic card into the lock and opened the door.

The room was dark aside from a small light on the wall in the bathroom, which was to our immediate right. I heard Maurice touch the wall a couple times, then golden light flooded the room and hurt my eyes after being in the dark for so long.

“There's just one bed,” I commented, my gaze fixed on the big bed settin' smack against the wall and takin' up most of the small room.

“I told her we were hooked up, I couldn't exactly ask for two beds.”

“Yeah, I know.” Aww, lawdy, I wish the lights were back off right quick, so he wouldn't be able to see my face. And I wouldn't be able to see the bed.

“You cool?”

I nodded but didn't say anything as I untangled our fingers and moved deeper into the room, droppin' my backpack on a chair by the TV. It'd been years since I'd traveled with my daddy, but we'd always stayed in much nicer hotels, nothing roadside like this one.

The room was nice enough, but it hella reminded me of the tricks at school who rented telly rooms to spread 'em for their fellas. Or whatever fella wanted a piece of coochie, because give-it-up girls were like that.

Finding the remote to the TV, I flicked it on. When light filtered off the set, Maurice clicked off the overhead lamp and walked toward the bed, then pulled back the blankets and sat down.

He didn't say anything as he shrugged out of his shirt, tossed it to the chair where my bag was. A minute later I heard the
clink-clank
of his belt and it slid from his jeans as he fiddled with the button fly, then bent forward to untie his shoes.

The entire time I stood staring at his muscular back, his dark skin smooth and rich-looking, set off by the pale milky colors coming off the TV program. He was gettin' naked and I couldn't think to move or kick off my own shoes or lose my sweatshirt.

With my damp palms pressed to my thighs, I shook my head, tryin' hella hard to snap out of it, to shut my mouth 'cause I was trippin' gaping at him. Licking my lips, I tried to get myself together before he noticed.

Takin' a couple deep breaths, then letting 'em out slowly, I squeezed my lids closed tight. When not lookin' at him I was able to turn away.

When I opened my eyes, Maurice had turned on the bed and was smiling at me, one dark brow arched and the twin dimples dancing on his cheeks. He'd slid one leg beneath the comforter, which made the denim V of his pants spread, givin' me a peep at his boxers beneath.

“All gravity?” he asked, leaning back on one elbow and pulling his other leg up onto the bed.

He was going to sleep with his jeans on, I realized, glad that the only light in the room was from the TV.

“Gravy.” I smiled, kicked off my shoes, tossed my sweatshirt, and climbed into the bed, turning on my side facing him and tuckin' the pillow so it was sorta between us. “You want the TV off?”

“Mmm-hmm…” His voice was trailin' off, all soft and hexa sexy sounding. Shoving down the plump of the pillow with a fist, I looked at his face and saw that his eyes were already closed. One arm was curled up beneath his head, showing off the thickness of his biceps.

Reachin' behind me, I found where I'd set the remote and shut off the set, sending the telly room into almost complete darkness. Through the thick drapes I could see the neon signs I'd seen from the parkin' lot and over the slow, even breathing of Maurice, I could hear cars on the freeway whizzin' by hella fast.

Just as I closed my eyes, Maurice's hand settled over mine on my pillow. His touch straight startled me, 'cause I'd been sure he'd already drifted off.

“Hey, Imani?” His voice was low and all sleepy.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Whatcha fight with Kayla 'bout?”

“I wanted to shut down GettinHooked.com.”

“Why?”

I sighed, turning my hand so we were palm to palm, his so much bigger than mine. “It was gettin' hella whack.”

“Aww…”

The silence stretched again, his body still aside from the rise and fall of his bare chest and I was pretty sure he'd finally fallen asleep. Leavin' my hand beneath his, I tried to settle into the bed, to relax into the mattress and not be so afraid we'd end up touchin' more.

My lids heavy, my lashes fallin' to my cheeks, I dreamily yawned, last night's lack of sleep takin' its toll and bringin' me down hard, the last of my energy seepin' out of every muscle.

And then his voice came in the darkness again, so softly I didn't get it all and wasn't sure if he was askin' a question or making a statement, and I was too tired to reason out his words, though they played over in my head as I drifted off…
“Imani, you don't need your site no more.”