Page 24 of Keeping Busy
“Touching you, pressing up against you, rubbing you...backing you up on walls or other hard surfaces.” Shit. I was turning myself on.
She rolled her eyes, again.
“Yo.” I got serious for a second. “Honestly, you’ve gotta know that it’s not one-sided. I’m saying, my grandmother raised me to be a gentleman, but Ma, I am a man. I got sensations in my lower regions. When you were rubbing your ass against me earlier today, I was kinda worried about you getting poked.”
Her face was the picture of innocence; eyes wide, mouth pulled down in a sad, yet sexy pout. “What?” She asked.
“Whatever, Man.” I told her.
“I’m not a man.”
My eyes raked over her body, which was covered by a deep yellow t-shirt that she had knotted at the waist, and minuscule denim shorts. She was preaching to the choir.
“Nah, Mecca, you’re definitely not a man.”
“Stop looking at me like that, Busy.” She said in a scolding tone, but the glint in her eyes told me that she was teasing.
“Looking at you like what?”
“Like you wanna be more than friends.”
“Stop trying to get something started, Li’l mama.” I stood up from her sofa. “I’mma get outta here. Before I go, I’m thinking church tomorrow morning, dinner Monday night, and the banquet for my youth camp on Friday night. You wit’ it?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I’m with it.”
“And we’ll talk about the weekend later.”
“What’s this weekend?”
“Every year, somebody on the team throws a big barbecue before we head into training camp. This year the backfield is hosting.”
“In Kentucky? We’re going to Kentucky?”
“If you can swing it. I mean, I know you have your own commitments. Classes to teach, a business to run.” Sighing, I continued. “You’ve been nothing but accommodating, Mecca. I’m not trying to take advantage of that, or take your help for granted. I mean, weekends seem like they’re probably prime time for dance lessons.”
“They typically are.” She agreed with a nod. “But summers are slower. Dance usually runs with the school year, so we don’t offer many classes during the summer.” She winked at me. “That’s when DJ B. Goode and Janaye like to vacation.”
Chuckling, I nodded.
“But, it’s also when I’m in the highest demand for choreography. So, I’ll have to look at my schedule to make sure that I’m not out of town, but off the top of my head, I think you’re good.”
“A’ight, I’m out.”
Mecca followed me to the door, when we arrived I pulled her into my arms for what was supposed to be a quick, friendly hug. Instead, I found myself looking down into her pretty face; her eyes soft, her expression open, her lips pink and lush. And I had the inexplicable desire to brush my mouth against hers, to capture her lips and see if she tasted as sweet as I imagined she did.
She dropped her head into my chest, breaking the eye contact, effectively breaking the spell she had cast on me.
I released her from the embrace. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” She repeated, unlocking and opening her front door for me.
Mecca
When my mom strutted into my office on Monday morning, I wasn’t even surprised. I knew how Janaye Goode operated. She’d probably spent the entire weekend worrying my father to death about the “Busy/Mecca” situation. Smirking to myself, I watched her lithely fold herself into the chair opposite my desk.
“Good morning, daughter.”
“Hey mom.” I replied, unable to wipe the smirk from my face.
