He opened the bag and pulled out the signed jersey and hat from Jordyn Briant, number twenty-seven on the Cherokee Springs Pumas NBA team. He was the shooting guard and our city’s favorite player, on and off the court.
“Bae!”
I smiled. “I noticed that you had a lot of their memorabilia in your man cave, but you didn’t have anything from him.”
“Bae, this is authentic. He signed this shit; it’s not an imprint like most of that stuff in those stores.”
I bobbed my head, grinning at his reaction. “I know, baby.”
“But how? He doesn’t sign a damn thing, because he doesn’t want anyone copying his signature.”
I giggled. “His father and my father are best friends.”
“What? You fucking lying, Baby?”
“No.”
“How come I never knew that?”
I shrugged. “I grew up protecting their relationship because they always knew that boy was destined for greatness. His dad and mine always declared that he would be a star in the NBA one day. With that mindset, they just made sure they protected Jordyn and anything surrounding him, including his relationships with people outside of the family. Early on, I knew not to let that tidbit out, especially to guys I was dating.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. I was with Carl for years, and he never knew my father and Earl Briant were friends.” On the ride home, I told him everything Carl said to me. He said that he must have gotten jealous of my success and wanted back in. I agreed.
“But you told me.”
“Yeah, you’re just that important to me. His sister owns a boutique just outside of the mall. She brought it with her when I told her that I was coming to the mall today. The real reason that I went to the mall was to get you this,” I declared, handing him a smaller jewelry bag.
“What’s this?”
“A little something special for you.”
He opened the bag and pulled out a sterling silver chevron signet ring with black diamonds that formed the letter H.
“This is fresh as hell, Baby.”
“Just a little ice to keep my hothead boyfriend cool,” I teased.
“Come here and kiss me, dulzura.”
I climbed onto his lap in the chair he occupied in my sitting room. He wrapped his arms around me, and he pulled me closer. I took my time, brushing my lips against his, licking them, and savoring the taste and feel of his soft, full lips.
When he finished, he asked, “What’s the special occasion?”
“I just wanted to celebrate you because you do so much for me and others.”
“That’s wassup. I love you, babe.”
“I love you too, Harlem.”
“Let me take care of you.” He lifted me off his lap and walked to my bathroom.
“What are you doing?”
“About to bathe you. The food will be here soon.”
He carried me into the bathroom and ran the water in the tub with my oils before he turned on some jazz music. He slowly undressed me, removing my phone from my back pocket, and kissing me with every item he removed. Harlem lifted me and placed me in the tub.
