Page 118 of Are You Going to Love Me

“Thank you,” Eden buzzed.

Ria left them, and Maximus grinned. “Now we have to celebrate. Get you some medicine first.”

“You can feed me and take me to the art walk before you go to the studio?”

“I can. You got your stuff packed?” he quizzed.

Eden pointed to the bag in the corner and slipped her shoes on. “Max, thank you for showing up for me.”

“I’m going to always show up for you. No question about it.”

thirty-eight

. . .

“Didyou know BlackArtCo. was going to be out here?” Maximus asked, strolling through the sidewalk covered block of black local artists.

Each side of the street was filled with vendors – some live painting, digital art, food art, music, handmade clothing, and décor for the house. Maximus was sure to have Brody tag along and control the crowd from the back. Instead, Brody was flanked to Eden’s right, devouring an oat milk ice cream sundae she talked him into and balancing the bags of things she’d purchased.

“Maybe,” Eden hummed, popping a honey and ginger cough drop into her mouth. “Want to see what they have?”

Maximus looked down his nose at her. “What you up to?’

“I’m not up to anything,” she coolly responded, before walking ahead of him.

Brody smirked, keeping his eye on her as she waltzed off.

“What she put you up to?” Maximus pressed.

“I know you pay me, but she feeds me, and I’m not going against the lady of the house. I don’t know shit, nigga,” Brody replied, trailing him to the art tent.

Maximus ducked his head under the black marking tent and examined the area. Eden was standing with the owner, grinning from ear to ear as he held up two large, covered canvases, and she held the other.

He approached the two, introduced himself to the owner, and peered down at Eden. “What you got?”

“You know how you told me to make the house mine, too? Well, I had some pieces commissioned. There’s like twelve total, but these are the ones I wanted you to see.”

“Tonight was to celebrate you, though,” Maximus stated, enjoying how she showed her affection but wanting to be clear that her moments were her moments.

“And we are. Look at all those bags Brody is holding,” Eden pointed.

Brody, in fact, was no longer holding the bags. They were placed in front of him and to the side as he recorded the moment with Eden’s bright pink phone. Maximus observed him, a floppy hat atop his head because it wouldn’t fit in the bag, a scarf around his neck, Eden’s bright phone, and all her bags. He chuckled.

“How is it you have all of us whipped?” he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. “Focus. These three are for your soon-to-be in-home studio.”

Maximus turned to see the oil paintings. One of his mixtape cover and two shots of him from the Trae Way photoshoot. “Yo, these are dope as hell.”

“I wanted you to see you how I see you. Larger than life.”

“You got to stop filling that nigga’s head up,” Brody joked. “Whew, these are some fly ass paintings. His ugly ass looks half-way decent.”

“You got to figure out the balance, nigga,” Maximus stated. “I’m pretty or ugly?”

Brody cocked his head to the side and squinted. “Pretty to your momma and your lady probably, uglass nigga to everyone else. E, you sure you want to keep waking up to him every day?”

“Sure, as the air I breathe,” Eden responded, not missing a beat.

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