Lady Pt. 2
Instructions: before you start reading, go listen to ‘Lady’ by D’Angelo and read pt. 1
It wasn’t until eleven a.m. the next morning that Pilar slowly stirred awake. The bed she was in felt warm, and comfortable, yet unfamiliar. She opened her eyes taking in all the harsh sunlight that flooded the room. As her eyes fluttered to adjust to her surroundings; she immediately realized that she wasn’t in her bed, and that this wasn’t her bedroom. Looking around she took in what was before her. A dark brown, modern, wooden dresser. On top of it sat a variation of colognes and a few watches. On the wall above the dresser hung a large framed, black and white photo of Muhammad Ali in his prime, fist balled up, aimed directly at the camera. Tucked away in the corner was a brown leather lounge chair, with a matching ottoman. It looked like it was an Eames chair. The walls in the bedroom were painted a faint shade of smoky grey with thick white baseboards, giving the wood floors a clean contrast. The room was decorated perfectly for a man that had style.
The mirrored sliding closet door was open, and she could see the Pendleton that James had worn the night before hanging up inside of the closet. James. This was his apartment that she was in and suddenly, as if on cue her head started to throb, reminding her that she’d drank too much the night before, and that she’d seen A.J. with another girl; hugged up, with his arms wrapped around the girl. Drunk or sober, the only way to describe how she felt was as if someone had reared their hand back and slapped her face with sheer vitriol. That was her ego, bruised and confused. How could A.J. have a girlfriend, when she was with him ninety percent of her free time? Many nights out of the week she’d spent with him at his place. All of the hours she’d sat in the studio with him while he created beats and played around with instruments, asking her what she thought of different tracks. Had this girl that she saw him with been around his friends, the same friends of his that she’d been around? Had everyone but her known she wasn’t the only one? She felt embarrassed and hurt. Her eyes watered up and she wanted to cry, but not in this bed that wasn’t hers. She wanted to be comfortable and clean, and in her own bed when she decided to cry out her pain.
Lifting the covers off of herself, for the first time since she’d been up she realized she had on a big T-shirt and nothing else. Where in the hell were her clothes? Instantly her mind darted to the Louis Vuitton bag she was carrying the night before, as well as her phone, wallet, and car keys that were inside of it; had she lost them?
She quickly hopped out of the bed, and padded down the narrow hallway, headed towards what she presumed was the living room. There she found James sitting on a leather couch, glass beer bottle in hand, staring intently at the large flat screen television on the wall, seemingly entranced. He was bare foot the same as Pilar was, in heather gray sweatpants and a white tank top. His biceps were defined, not a single tattoo insight. He was a strikingly handsome man, and although Pilar had always known this, seeing him outside of his normal work attire really pronounced this to her.
A football game was on the screen and judging by the screw face that he was making, whatever team he wanted to win wasn’t winning. The living room was painted in the same shade of gray as the bedroom, with the same aesthetics of chocolate brown leather, and dark wood. Near the front window was a mahogany wood book shelf with an array of vibrant green plants on it. She liked it, a lot. For some reason the stylish decor in his place shocked her, and she felt bad for the thought. She didn’t think lowly of James in any regards, however she’d never imagined that his place would be as nice as it was. She felt disappointed in herself. Continuing to scan the living room she spotted her bag sitting on a computer desk on the opposite side of the room. She inwardly let out a sigh of relief.
The volume from the television was too loud for her to talk over it, so she walked over to sit on the couch besides James. When she sat down next to him, not too close, he never turned his attention towards her, which meant he knew she was awake and in the room with him the entire time. This caught her off guard. At work whenever she entered the office, usually after him because she was always running late, he always greeted her. Now inside of his own apartment, her dressed in what she assumed was his t-shirt, he decided to ignore her presence? That too stung just a little, but Pilar brushed it off and cleared her throat before speaking,
“Hey good morning.”
Her voice was raspy and hoarse from all the Hennessy she’d consumed, and the throwing up she’d done the night before. Yelling out song’s as loud as her voice could go, and hitting the blunt a couple of times when it was passed to her didn’t help.
“Good morning.”
He responded before taking a sip from the bottle he was holding, his eyes still fixated intently on the screen.
Pilar didn’t know how to read him right now. He seemed like he was mad at her and she wanted to come right out and ask him if he was, but she was too embarrassed about everything that had happened to put on her normal bravado, and she hadn’t had a chance to look at herself in the mirror yet, she could only imagine what her hair looked like all over her head.
“Thank you for everything last night. For giving me a ride, and getting me when I was drunk. If I ruined your night I’m so sorry.” She said with true sincerity.
Finally he looked at her.
“Fuck that date. Aye, how long you going to let that nigga play you Pilar?”
The frankness of his question caught her off guard more than the disregard he had for the Spanish looking girl he’d had with him last night, she couldn’t remember her name. Before she could attempt to respond, he continued on,
“Listen I’m not hating on ole boy. It’s never that. But looking at how you were outta your element last night, shit ain’t cool. I listen when you talk to me and I try not to pass judgement on your situation, but at some point you gotta call some shit what it is.”
Now Pilar was quiet and trying her hardest not to let a tear make its way to her face. She didn’t have anything to say in her own defense, because everything he’d said was correct. For the first time ever, she felt embarrassed in front of James. Now it was Pilar’s turn to look away. She stared at the plants near the window and continued to listen to him express what he obviously had been thinking for quite some time.
“When I first saw you at that job I was like damn she’s so beautiful. Talking to you every day, laughing with you, that shit started messing with my head. I hate hearing the dumb shit you let that nigga run on you. Normally I wouldn’t even involve myself in the shit, but I hate seeing a woman I love out here looking dumb.”
Love?
Did he say love? The volume on the TV was loud so she wasn’t certain if she’d heard him correctly, but the way he looked at her let her know that she’d heard him correctly.
Pilar looked him directly in the eyes, both of them silent for what felt like an eternity. They just sat there, starring each other at each other with intensity and about a million thoughts racing through their minds.
Whatever team he’d been rooting for made a crazy play that sent the stadium into an uproar of cheers and screams. The announcers went wild with excitement, giving play-by- play accounts of the incredible pass that led to the winning touch down; James did not budge or even turn his head towards the TV, he just continued to stare into Pilar's eyes, wishing he could read her mind.
Pilar finally spoke with hesitance in her voice,
"Love me?"
James, leaned forward, both elbows resting on his knees, looking down nervously, as he began rubbing one hand across the top of his head, from back to front, like he was smoothing down his waves. James looked back up at Pilar and said,
"Yea Lady, you heard me."
He felt more vulnerable and exposed than he’d ever felt in his life. He wasn’t the type of guy to run around professing his love for women, especially a woman that he knew was hung up on a fuck boy. It annoyed him to listen to her talk about B.J., A.J., whatever his name was. He knew the day would come when the dude would reveal his hand to her, and let her know that he didn’t want her fully, didn’t want everything she had to offer a man. Without knowing the dude, he understood him. Pilar was physically appealing, a college girl that had a naiveness to her that was attractive to alpha males. He understood that as long as she was willing to stick around with no expectations, no requirements, no title, the dude would entertain her as he desired.
What he couldn’t understand was why he couldn’t get her off of his mind. He found himself thinking about her all of the time. So many times he’d wanted to ask her out. So many weekends he wanted to text her and ask her what she was doing, but he never did. He wanted her, badly. He was tired of playing the big brother, advisor role. Fuck that. Months ago he’d accepted that he had feelings that were deep for Pilar, but he stuck to the ‘G’ Code and never hated on the man that had her attention. After last night, he decided enough was enough and that he was going to put it out there.
When he’d dropped Marisol off last night, she slammed the door to his car so hard he thought the glass had shattered. Pilar was laid out in the back seat of his car with his Pendleton dropped over her. He felt bad for Marisol, no woman deserved to feel second rate, but his guilt hadn’t over rode his feelings for Pilar. Once they’d gotten back to his place he handed Pilar a t-shirt of his and she disrobed and dressed herself in her drunken stupor. He retreated to the couch, checking on her a few times to make sure she was ok. He’d been up since eight am ruminating over his thoughts over Pilar.
Attempting to break the tension and awkwardness of the moment, Pilar spoke,
“What about Maria, thats your girlfriend now right?”
Pilar gave a slight smile at the corners of her mouth when she questioned him, but truthfully she did feel someway when she saw him with the girl. The feeling of jealousy swept over her quickly, and she dismissed it. James didn’t make a sound, or even crack a smile at her question. This worried Pilar, she was always able to make James laugh at any moment, in any situation. But this time was different; his demeanor was methodical and intense.
He picked up the remote and shut off the TV, because he wanted Pilar to hear him loud and clear, no room for interpretations, or miscommunication.
“Thats not my girlfriend, you know that. You know who I wanted to go to that concert with? You. When I bought the tickets, I was going to ask you to go, but before I could, you came in talking about what you were wearing to the concert and who you were going with, so I just let it go. Pilar, I know you ain’t used to a man like me, but you should know that I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. So yea, I love you as a friend, but this goes way beyond that. I love you as a friend, as a lover, as my Lady, on some twin flame type shit…most people wouldn’t understand…hell you probably don’t understand where all of this is coming from…”
Pilar didn’t even let James finish. She grabbed his face with both of her hands, and planted her soft lips against his, kissing him gently, yet passionately. James wrapped both arms around Pilar’s waist and pulled her in closer, as she raised her right leg on the couch, allowing James to slide in between her legs, and lay her down on her back. James rose up, taking off his white tank top, revealing his fine dark chocolate, athletic physique. He looked down at Pilar with a sexy smirk on his face; she looked up at him in amazement, taking all of him in. Pilar had never seen James in this way; she never knew that he was hiding all of that under those Polo shirts and Pendleton’s.
She reached up and ran her hands across his chest, arms, and abs. He leaned down and resumed kissing her more fervently, then lifted her left leg up to meet his face. James began kissing her from her toes, up her leg, to her thighs, working his way from the outer thigh to the inner, slowly and gently moving his kisses upwards until he reached her belly button. He began pushing the t-shirt Pilar was wearing upwards with both of his hands, to reveal more parts of her body that his kisses had not yet reached. Pilar let out a soft moan, and as she opened her legs wider to receive all of James, the sound of her phone ringing inside of her bag attempted to interrupt the mood, they ignored it and let it ring.
James proceeded to kiss her, they heard a text alert come through, again they ignored it. Pilar raised up, so James could completely remove her t-shirt. James sat back on the couch and now it was his turn to take in all of her beauty. He asked her to walk across the room and grab a gold wrapper out of the drawer of the desk his computer sat on. He didn't ask her to do it because he was lazy, but because he wanted to admire her naked body. She stood following his instructions with no question. As she strutted slowly across the room, he gazed at her slim, yet shapely figure hypnotically. He marveled at her beautiful, smooth cocoa skin, with reddish undertones, compliments of her Native American ancestry. Her disheveled, flowing black hair was perfectly wild, and excited him.
He smiled thinking to himself "Damn, finally, this is all mine.”
When Pilar found what she was looking for and turned around to walk back over to James, his gray sweatpants were pulled down around his ankles. She handed him the gold wrapper, and she stood in front of him, with both hands on her hips, baring her entire body to him with confidence. Pilar was completely comfortable with this new dynamic between her and James and she was more than ready for what was about to go down. She watched as he opened the wrapper with his teeth. When he motioned to her to "come here", she climbed on top of him straddling him, and lowered her face to his to begin kissing him. Her phone rang again.
At this point, Pilar was annoyed with the interruptions, she pushed herself off of James, and retrieved her phone from her bag on the desk. She looked at the screen and paused. Without her saying it, he knew who it was.
“Give it to me.” He said easily, in a tone that wasn’t aggressive, but direct. She handed him the phone, the screen read ‘A.J.’
James grabbed Pilar's phone from her hand and answered it,
“Aye my nigga don’t call her phone no more.” He spoke confidently into the phone before ending the call and tossing her phone on the couch.
He looked Pilar in the eyes and spoke slowly,
"Fuck that nigga Pilar, you're my Lady now.”
The End
