Our Muted Recklessness - Love Belvin Page 0,81

palm as I stood. This was working out to be the best birthday yet. I’d seen Thomas speak twice before, always leaving me feeling inspired. To do what? I never knew, but there was energy in his words whether written or spoken. What a college jock had in common with a world-renowned, tenured journalist? I had no fucking clue. I just knew I liked what I liked. Like…tomboy boxers with long, thick, chestnut legs and big ass tits.

By the time I made it back to the bedroom, Tori was laying on her side. There was this weird expression on her face as she rested her head on her hand.

“Tired?” I asked, killing the light.

She shook her head predictably. Here was one time I was grateful Tori didn’t use many words to communicate her feelings. I knew what she wanted, but tonight wasn’t the night. Her eyes were on me as I stood in front of the nightstand, turning off the lamp. Ignoring her, I stripped out of my shorts. Then I pulled back the sheet and blanket and crawled into bed. I didn’t touch her on purpose. It was a determined patience.

“Happy birthday, KaToria,” I murmured, turning onto my stomach to find comfort.

Surely, she didn’t reply.

I was well into dozing off when I heard a voice so small, so insecure. “Ashton…”

“Hmmm?”

“If you…wanted my virginity, I would’ve…will give it to you.”

I lifted my heavy body, turning onto my side and shifting to her warm, curled figure. She was closing up. It was all in her protective fetal position. With little force, I tried breaking her thighs from her stomach to mold her into my frame. Hesitantly, she let me.

When we were aligned, I whispered into her neck. “I know.”

That’s how we met the sandman.

Chapter Twelve

-THEN-

“You think it’ll be weird for me to go out with a freshman?” Neemah asked the table in general.

That question stumped me. What did I know about the rules of dating? So, I did what I did best, made myself invisible in a group of people.

“I don’t know,” Lyricah, whose name I finally knew, began. She was the girl behind the wheel when I went to Verti with Samantha and her science major friends in October. “I think it depends on who it is. Some of these damn freshmen are so immature. They think dating an upperclassman is going to get them status.”

I twirled my forkful of leaves around the small container my salad dressing came in.

“This one’s cute. He’s from Alabama,” Lyricah explained. “Some town called Eight Mile.”

“The hell?” Teefah scoffed.

“Right.” Lyricah’s giggle annoyed me. “That’s what I said. I thought Eight Mile was only real in Detroit, or something.” She shrugged with her pink lips and thick brows over her browline glass frames. “He’s cute, though.”

“Then let him take you out,” Samantha advised, simplifying such a dumb dilemma.

I knew it was wrong for me to judge these girls, but this was why I found it hard to make friends here. They talked about nothing. I wouldn’t complain, though. All I had to do was keep quiet, but give eye contact and occasional nods. We were in the main cafeteria today. Samantha BBM’d me asking to meet her here for lunch between my classes. I didn’t know the invitation included her friends. They were cool, but I just didn’t fit in with them.

“Oh, my god, I got into it with my cousins on the phone last night about Brielle,” Teefah shared.

“What about her?” Lyricah asked, dipping her carrot in humus.

Teefah rolled her eyes. “The typical argument of who is better: Brielle or Beyoncé.”

“I’m so sick of that argument,” Neemah hissed after sucking her teeth. “People really need to stop pitting Black women against each other and just love their contribution to our community. They only do that because both girls started in platinum-selling girl groups and have that good girl, but sexy image.”

“Yeah, but there’s something so ‘I’m sucking your man off under the table while you’re having dinner across from him’ about Brielle, to me.” Teefah’s head bobbed, putting emphasis on that scandal.

Everyone’s face fell at the table, including mine.

“Why would you say something like that about Queen Bre?” Samantha asked.

“I really feel that way. You saw that video she put out to ‘Mine.’ We thought it was about her defending her relationship with her man. But in the video, she was stalking him everywhere he went…to work, the doctor’s, a restaurant.”

“Oh, yeah,” Teefah sighed, recalling. “Then she was the erotica dancer behind the screen

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