Mike and Tara bust out laughing with Troy like that shit was so funny. Annette was only smiling because Troy found it so amusing that he had just humiliated his friend. I looked at Jordan who was trying to hold back a chuckle.
"Damn, nigga … shut the fuck up," David said, angrily, but even he was cracking a smile. He threw another pillow in Troy's direction and it missed him.
"Dude … I'm just saying … ain't no pussy good enough to fuck without a damn rubber." Troy said, then walked over to the kitchen to throw his empty bottle in the trash.
"We don't use a condom when it's just us. Right, baby?" Tara was saying to Mike.
"That's different, man. That's your girl. Y'all been fucking for like, what, one hundred years. It's time for y'all to get married." Troy said.
"You have to excuse my brother," Jordan said. "Sometimes, I wonder if his head is screwed tight."
"Man, when are we leaving?" a familiar voice called from upstairs. Everyone looked up to see TJ coming down the stairs.
"When the rest of dem boys get here," Jordan replied.
"I hope they hurry the fuck up," TJ said, then he looked down and noticed that I was there, too. "Hey, Annette. What's up?"
"Hey, TJ. Nothin' much."
Jordan grabbed her hand. "Let's go outside. I was going to take you around the parking lot a couple times before we go out in the street to make sure you're comfortable."
"Okay," I said, standing up.
"I'm sorry. I didn't even give you a tour of the place when you got here. It's not that big of a place, so we can start downstairs. I got a package upstairs that I need to get before we leave, too."
He put his hands on her waist and led her down a staircase adjacent to the door where she had entered the home. It led down into a basement. It was the ultimate guy hangout. There was a 42" flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Movie theatre style leather seats for at least eight were positioned in front of the TV in the center of the room. The walls, which were black, were covered in pictures of guys on motorcycles, football, basketball, baseball, and wrestling memorabilia. There was a poker table on one side of the room. Cards and chips covered the table where it looked like someone had just finished a game of poker. What really surprised her was the stripper pole located in a corner of the room. She could only imagine the many girls that these guys invited to work that pole. She was also surprised to see a pool table.
"Wow! You guys have some wild nights down here, don't you?" Annette asked, running her fingers over the labels covering the glass liquor bottles on the counter of the built in mini bar. "Moet. Courvoisier. Patron. Ciroc."
"We've been in this place about a year. Before that Troy and I lived out further south of Atlanta. TJ just moved in for the time being, so it's just us three guys," he said, watching her every move as she walked around the room.
Annette ran her hands over the pool table, "Who's the pool player here?"
"I am. So is TJ."
"You any good?"
"Probably not as good as you, if I can remember correctly, the way you beat that guy's ass the other night."
"Actually, we didn't win that game that night," she reminded him, walking up to the see thru glass cabinets where they keep DVDs and CDs.
"You were beating their ass until you handed off the stick."
Her interest peaked when she realized that he had been looking at her for quite a long time that night.
"You have the entire Godfather movie collection? Cool," she said, scanning some of the movie titles. "Jet Li, Sons of Anarchy. Racks of Love? Big Booty Central? Suck My … What?" She spun around to look at him, almost embarrassed that she had called out the titles of porn movies.
"Not all of those are mine," he said, holding up his hands in front of his chest in defense.
"Oh? Just some of them?"
"Something like that." He took her by the hand and led her back up the stairs to the main area where the others were still in the living room. He showed her the kitchen area with oversized refrigerator stuffed with nothing but bottled water, various energy drinks, and milk. Besides the basement and kitchen, the rest of the house appeared that it was never lived in. All the other rooms on the main level looked professionally decorated and everything was neat and in order. Jordan explained that they had a maid come several times a week to clean up. In addition to the kitchen, there was the living room, dining room, a home office, small guest bedroom, full downstairs bath, and a balcony complete with a huge outdoor gas grill and outside furniture set. There were two master suites upstairs and one additional bedroom and bathroom. Annette didn't realize that a townhome could be so huge. She could say that builder maximized every square feet of the floor plan to make the most of the space.
"You guys have a nice home," she said.
"Thank you. TJ's room is here," Jordan pointed at a closed door. "This is Troy's room, the second master suite." Troy had a handmade, DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT PERMISSION, BITCH!, sign hanging from his doorknob.
"All right then," she exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know … " Jordan shook his head from side to side. "As if anyone wants to step foot in that muthafucka. And this is my room … "
When he opened the door and they stepped in, she could immediately tell from the smell that it was Jordan's room. It smelt just like he did all the time … of cologne and aftershave. The entire room, except for the walls, was black and gold. Everything, down to the dressers and the area rug on the floor was either black or gold or a combination of both. The side tables and coffee tables were glass. All the bedroom furniture in the room matched. The bed was round, not square and huge. It looked so soft, she felt like plunging right into the middle of it and cuddling up under the golden silk sheets and duvet covers. There was a large flat screen TV similar to the one in the basement and living room mounted on the wall.
"This is beautiful."
"You like the colors? It's not too dark?"
"No, it's perfect." She walked past double doors that led to his walk-in closet and that led straight through to his master bath that followed the same color scheme of the bedroom. The large circular Jacuzzi tub looked like the best way to escape when one was recovering from a long stressful day. What she wouldn't give to run a bubble bath now and jump right in. "You live like a king, don't you?"
"You could say that my bedroom is a place I can come and call my own castle. I was lucky enough that the builder let me hand pick everything when they were finishing up the interior. He warned me to stay away from getting too personal with it for resale purposes, but I'm glad I did it."
They were now standing in the middle of his room again, when she noticed the photo album on the coffee table. "Can I?" She pointed to it.
Jordan picked it up and handed it to her. "Not quite finished yet. But, those are the only pictures I have of my family. Not many pictures to collect, since my family is pretty small."
She opened it up to the first page. There was a picture of Jordan standing in front of his motorcycle with a helmet in his hand. He looked much younger, but he was still fine in the picture. As she looked back and forth from the picture in the album to Jordan, she thought that the picture didn't do him any justice because he was even finer now in person.
"That was me when I was first initiated into Heat Ryderz by TJ's older brother, Rod," he said, leaning over her shoulder. "Why don't you sit down?" He gestured toward the bed beside her.
Focused on the photo album, she sat down on the bed as he had instructed and turned to the next page. She flipped through several pictures of Jordan solo. Most of the rest of the pictures were of Jordan and his motorcycle crew. A few of the guys she recognized from downstairs and outside. She finally came to a picture of a lady standing on a beach, the sunset behind her. She had long black hair and an pecan-colored complexion. She was so beautiful, the way she was smiling and raising her hands up in the air, her spring dress spreading out around her, as if she were spinning around.
"That's my mother. We visited California nine years ago."
"She's so beautiful," Annette whispered, wondering what it was like to be able to feel and talk to a mother that was so beautiful and that looked so carefree and alive. Annette thought her mother was beautiful as well, only she didn't get to touch her mother everyday like he did and she couldn't even remember the way she smelled. The only memories that Annette had of her mother were the pictures she inherited from her parents' wedding day. "She looks so young."