Page 44 of Are You Going to Love Me

Before Maximus could finish his sentence, Eden swung her legs around and wiggled out of the truck. “I told you, five seven,” she joked, as she strutted past him toward the door, only to be halted by Maximus’ voice.

“Bring ya ass back here.” His demand was not only sexy but laced with a warning. “I know you been on your independent shit and it’s cool. You don’t touch doors when I’m around, heard me?”

It took everything in Eden’s body not to bite her lip or clench her thighs or fantasize. She caught herself again. There hadn’t been a man in her life in so long that she didn’t trust that her bar was set in hell. Eden recovered, nodded her head, and slowly backtracked.

“I don’t think I like the way you’re talking to me,” she muttered, hoping to throw him off her scent.

Maximus casted his gaze down at her, licked his lips, and asked once more, “Heard me?”

“Heard you,” Eden softly replied. The answer prompted him to walk toward the door with her at his side but blocked from the direct view of the street.

As he opened the bar-covered door of Big Rod’s he muttered in her ear, “You liked that shit. You don’t have to front with me.”

Eden pretended not to hear him and proceeded through the open door. As the smell of Big Rod’s special batter wafted in the air, he turned the corner and jumped back, feigning shock.

“I know I ain’t seeing what I think I'm seeing!” Big Rod's voice was loud, booming with laughter and joy. “If it ain’t the girl that tried to burn my damn shop down and the young nigga that tried to rob it. Who the hell let y’all get together?”

Eden laughed in sync with Maximus. Maximus closed the space between him and Big Rod. Eden watched as Big Rod pulled Maximus into a fatherly hug before releasing him.

“You look good, young blood,” Big Rod stated, before looking over at Eden. “You know she can’t cook, right? Pretty face, nice girl, can’t boil water.”

Eden swatted at him and chuckled. “First of all, I’ve learned to do a few things. Second, I don’t think he has to worry about me cooking for him.”

Big Rod raised his brows and bounced his eyes between them, seeing and knowing what Eden was pretending not to. “Like I said, she can’t cook.”

Maximus let a smirk perk his lips. “Like nothing at all or...?”

“Don’t you dare say Poppi’s spaghetti,” Big Rod rumbled.

Eden groaned and rolled her eyes as she stepped to the counter. “That wasn’t made for consumption, that was made for intimidation, and she never passed that down to us. Thank you. And I can bake cakes and stuff because I had a brand deal.”

“Mm,” Big Rod grunted. “So, the man is going to have diabetes and still be hungry. MB, watch yourself.”

“I do have a sweet tooth,” Maximus muttered, if not for anything else than to watch how Eden squirmed.

“Look at me. I have a sweet tooth too. Ol’ lady complaining about my sugar habit now,” Big Rod spoke before snapping his fingers. “Ay, JJ, get them the special and don’t let them pay for it, their money ain’t good here.”

“Nah, Rod, you got to let me put something in your hand,” Maximus started up as Eden looked over her shoulder.

“Oh, like I tried to do, and you kept sending it back?” Eden sassed.

“Ain’t never taking money off of you,” Maximus stated.

“And that goes for you, too. You need to stack all that money UVE is giving you,” Big Rod stated, grabbing two grape sodasout of the cooler and handing them over to Maximus. He nodded them toward a table. “We’ll bring your food out.”

Eden led the charge to the table and slid into the booth, facing the door. Maximus lingered at the table, looking down at her. “What?"

“How long you been out here without a nigga?” he surveyed.

Eden’s eyes squinted. “Uhm...”

“Too damn long,” he huffed, motioning her out of the booth. Eden slid out, and he motioned her to the other side. “I got to see the doors. Who the hell you been with?”

Eden rose her perfectly arched brows and poked her gloss-covered lips out. “A couple of guys from the other side of the tracks. I was kind of off limits around these parts.”

“Poppi didn’t play that shit did she?”

“Not in the least,” Eden said with dry laughter. “Some little runner she had around was trying to spit game, and she wasn’t having it. I got away from her in college, at least I thought I did.”

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