When I push out of the kitchen and into the living room, Bryson and Marcus are staring atSportsCenterfrom our leather sectional’s sinking cushions with their mouths open.
I march in front of the TV, crossing my arms. They groan at the same time.
“You think you can sit with Mama for a lil’ while? I need to go somewhere.”
Marcus pulls his lips from my strawberry cool cup. “Where you going?”
I look over at Bryson. “Can you give us a minute?”
“You want me to leave?” He frowns.
“Yeah...”
He swings his head toward Marcus like we’re ten again and Marcus can make me play nice when I’m mad, but those days are gone.
“Not leave-leave,” Marcus mumbles, sucking on a chunk of ice. “Let me see what babygirl got going on.”
Bryson sighs, pushing up from the couch.
Our eyes circle each other’s in a weird dance because this is the longest we’ve ever beefed besides that time he smashed his lips against mine under our basketball goal the summer before eighth grade.
“I’ll meet you outside.” Marcus tosses his chin up to the front door. “We’ll work on defense again.”
I roll my eyes away from his as he walks to the front door with slumped shoulders.
When it slams shut, I push out a deep breath. “So, can you?”
“What y’all mad at each other for?” He wags his finger between me and the front door.
“Ain’t nobody mad at that boy.”
“You never turn down a strawberry cool cup.”
“Well, today I did. Is there a problem with that?”
“Yeah...it means you mad.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, blowing out another breath. “I came to ask you for a favor, not to talk about me and Bryson.”
He eyes me up and down while the rest of the cool cup melts in his hand. “Did Lucy give him that black eye, or was it you?”
“No, Marcus. I don’t even care enough about him to use the little energy I have to punch him. He’s not even worth that.”
“Damn. The dude ain’t even worthy of a punch? That’s fucked up.”
“No, what’s messed up is what he di—you know what, never mind. Can you sit with Mama for a few or not?”
It’s another thing Ace hammered into my head that day in the kitchen while he brushed his wet lips against mine:“Be a good girl for me this week. Be nice to Bryson because he’s still learning how to use his words and don’t fuck Marcus’ head up with shit that I have under control.”
All of it has my burning body in overdrive because Ineedhim. Sneaky kitchen kisses between pickup games wasn’t enough.
“How long is a few?”
“Can you do it or not?”
“Hold up. Drop the attitude. You the one asking me for a favor.”
I cross my arms while he looks at me like he’s searching for evidence of the trail of kisses Ace left down my body. He’s doing all the things Marshall never got a chance to do.
