Page 119 of Are You Going to Love Me

Maximus’ chest swelled. “You heard her, muhfucka, step off.”

Brody gave Eden a silly look before stepping away.

“You play too much, Brody,” she laughed and turned her attention back to Maximus. “You like ‘em?”

“Love ‘em. Where’s the rest?”

“In the back in the crates,” the owner spoke up. “Considering you’re a private man and you cherish your lady here, I think it’s better if you view them at home.”

Maximus’s thick brow raised. “Oh, that type shit? Aight, we’ll bring the truck around.”

Eden stood nearby, chatting it up with a few patrons who came under the tent to express to her how happy they posted up on their own side bar until Brody appeared with the truck to load everything up. After a round of photos, they were on their way back home.

“Aight, three for the studio, living room, entryway, and three for the bedroom. These gotta be the ones you had that man sign the NDA for,” Maximus muttered.

“Mhmm,” Eden buzzed from her rested position on the love seat. Maximus was sure to give her tea and medicine before trailing up the stairs behind her.

On the bed, Maximus slowly pulled the craft paper off the first painting. His tattooed hand around her throat. The second, her foot over his shoulder as he kissed her ankle. The third, his head between her thighs, and her pink toes pointed to the ceiling.

He studied each one. The ones in the living room were from their first date, the TV show and the Trae Way photoshoot. It showed the progression and layers of their relationship thus far. He balanced his attention between the gifts and her. “You trying to fuck my head up more than you have already?”

“I have not,” she defended, sipping her tea.

“Nah, you have,” Maximus stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“How?” she pressed, watching as he stood and moved the paintings to the wall and then picked up the paper.

“‘Cause,” Maximus started, putting the trash in a bag he brought to reduce the mess and clutter.

Eden lowly watched him move around and clean as she wrapped herself in a blanket. Maximus ordered in her ‘Sorry, you caught a cold basket’. “‘Cause what?”

“You make me do shit I haven’t done. You do shit no one has done.”

“Go deeper,” Eden pushed, her words making him chuckle carnally.

“You might be catching a cold but your pussy ain’t so watch your mouth,” he responded, before taking a seat by her. True to his routine, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I’m praying. And I ain’t been the type of nigga to talk to God unless I was in a jam and needed him to get me out. Now I'm praying in the morning with gratefulness because I’m awake, or that I slept, for food I didn’t have to hustle for or steal. A girl that ain’t trying to snake me out, piss in my face and tell me it’s raining. Even when it’s rocky, you know? You jump started that, and it’s rearranged parts of me I thought were broken or dead. You fucked up my head and you keep pushing me to believe in myself and my vision, so you did this. I fear you gon’ keep going.”

Eden hummed tiredly, the cold medicine kicking in. “If you let me.”

“Are you going to love me?”

“Mmhmm. You going to love me?”

“Ain’t a damn question. Come on, let me get you in the bed. I’ll lay with you until it’s time for me to leave.”

“You don’t have to, I don’t want you sick too.”

“I probably already got it. I’ve been all up and through you,” he joked, kissing her face then her lips. “Them my cooties.”

“You’re silly. You better know if I make you chicken noodle soup, it’s going to taste like socks. Old sweaty jail socks.”

“We’ll just order out. Don’t worry about it.”

Maximus laughed as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. The moment Eden was under the covers, she snuggled against his body. He held her, his lids heavy with sleep. By the time he woke up, Keon, Rudy, andthe engineer had called him three times each. He groaned and texted back a collective “I’m on my way damn.”

DJ Rudy: You got to give shorty a break

Maximus: Fuck you nigga

---