“I can see that,” he tells me as he moves back and makes room for me to step past him and start towards the door. We've been parked for about an hour now, and I'm tired of waiting. I want to see Naomi. No, maybe that's not it. I need to see her, and I need to find my kid. “But why? A few days ago, you acted like you couldn't stand her. Now you're in love or some shit? What's going on, Turner? I've known you a long ass time now, and I've never seen you look at a girl the way you look at her.” I pause with my foot on the top step, ready to descend. Part of me wants to break down and have some sort of gay ass heart to heart with Trey, tell him everything.
Instead I say, “Hey Treyjan, what are you named after again? Oh yeah, that thing that failed and got your mommy preggers with you.” I reach into my back pocket and grab a Trojan, tossing the little square package over my shoulder as I step out and onto the cement.
“Hey Turner,” he shouts after me. “Fuck you, dude.” And then for a few blissful moments there, everything is normal. Better than normal even. And then I run into Naomi, and a smile curls across my lips. My body goes crazy and my heart starts to pump.
She looks fucking perfect tonight, dressed in a white, sleeveless button up that isn't actually buttoned, just pinned together over her chest with an Amatory Riot button. The teal color of their logo only emphasizes the matching bra beneath, the one that peeks out at me as she moves. Around her neck is a black tie with a skull on it, made out of the same fabric as the very, very, very short fucking mini skirt she's got on.
She pauses in front of me and places her hands on her hips, letting out a sigh that I don't quite get.
“Hey there, sexy,” I say, and I can't help but notice the way her lip curls up at the edge. There's still heat between us, so much so that my dick is already hard and my body is starting to sweat. I find myself licking my lips and running my hand through my hair. And she, she just stands there and looks at me with eyes so shadowed in secrets that I can't even tell what color they are anymore. “You know,” I begin before she can say anything. “It's true. Honesty really is the best fucking policy. You had something you wanted to tell me?” She lets her mouth twist into an all out sneer and steps back, shaking her head like she can't even believe I just said that. “It'll clear your head, I promise.”
“Oh really?” she asks sarcastically. “You have no idea what it'll do for me, so don't even bother making false proclamations.” Naomi holds up her palms to pause the next words that are about to come out of my mouth. “Let me just get this out, so we can be done with each other, alright?” I raise my eyebrows and click my tongue stud against my teeth.
“Done with each other?” I ask, taking a step forward, clasping Naomi tight around the upper arms. As soon as our skin makes contact with one another, it's like a bomb going off, exploding my brain into mush, shrinking me down to nothing, pushing me forward. “But I'm just getting started.” My mouth captures hers and tastes hot heat and cigarettes, dragging a moan from my throat that gets lost in a desperate frenzy of clawing fingers and gnashing teeth. Naomi and I, we kiss hard and rough, like we're not just trying to make out, but like we're trying to hurt each other, too. I don't quite get the feelings that are running through my blood, tangling my fingers in her hair, pressing her face to mine.
I have to say, when she hits me in the stomach and steps back, I'm not surprised. Saliva shimmers on her full lips and makes them seem all the more appealing. My mouth waters in response as I take a hand to my lips and wipe away the spit.
“Fuck, what is it now?” I ask her and for the first time, I see this hint of vulnerability, this trickle of uncertainty flutter across her face and then it's gone like it never was. I life my hands up and cross them behind my head, letting my eyes close, so I won't get pissed. I want to scream at her, ask her what her problem is. Despite what she might think, I'm not invincible. Certain things set me off, and getting hit is one of them. I got hit enough by my mom and step daddies. Getting wailed on again is not an option. Only her. I only let her do it, and I don't know why.
“Turner, there is no kid,” she blurts and my eyes open quickly, fix her with a tight stare.
“What?” My first thought is that she fucking lied to me. The thought makes me crazy, so crazy that I almost turn around and walk away. I've had girls play the pregnancy card before, say that the condom didn't work or some shit. They were all liars, eventually copped to the fact that they were just trying to trap me. I don't want to be trapped. I want to be enraptured. Naomi does that to me, and when she told me, I could tell she wasn't saying the words to get a reaction out of me. She was speaking to empty herself. How could what she said have been a lie? How? I blink and my mouth curls dangerously. The muscles in my arms twitch.