Crazy In Love With A Thug: Bari and Seven by LaDonna Robinson Page B
Authors: LaDonna Robinson
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yet, and he didn't want this to be like every other relationship he had been in. He said he wanted to take his time and do this right. He said he was in love, for real this time, and he wanted to just enjoy the feeling. It made me think that sex ruins relationships.
"I have to go the store."
"For what? We have food," he joked, pulling me back into his arms.
I loved it there. I held out my hand for the keys to his midnight blue Lexus truck. He reached into his pocket and dropped them in my hand.
"Be careful, Milkshake."
"I will. I promise," I smiled at him.
I was in the kitchen frying chicken, making potato salad and putting together numerous sandwiches when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.
"I love you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Baby, Darshon is coming."
"I know. Trish is, too."
"How do you know? She wasn't invited."
"She called and asked if I wanted her to send anything with Darshon. I told her no and invited her, too. If Satan is coming, he might as well bring a demon or two," I laughed, and he laughed with me.
It was a football party. The Forty-Niners were playing the Steelers, and Seven was acting like the K.K.K. and the Nation of Islam was having a truce meeting. The party was my idea. His friends had been calling all week wanting him to go here or there to watch the game. I wasn't a football fan and wasn't going to pretend to be. He refused each and every invitation and followed up with, 'My Milkshake ain't cool with that’.
"If it's cool with you it's alright with me. But I'm telling you, I'll beat Trish's ass in here if she thinks she's gon' be disrespecting you. Actually, I probably won't even get the chance. Ain't Gucci coming?"
Gucci was the girlfriend of Seven's dog, Niquon, who had nicknamed himself Six when they were kids; Six and Seven. I felt like a bookie. Gucci had informally made me her adopted little sister. We did everything together. She was my best friend. Friends were something I had inherited when Seven and I got together. His friends were my friends. I liked Seven's friends a lot. They weren't fake and phony, and they seemed to genuinely care about him.
"I'm not worried about Trish, baby. I can handle Trish."
I wasn't that same little insecure girl I was a few months before, the one that cringed in Trish's presence every time she hurled an insult my way. Seven had taken away all my insecurities and feelings of inferiority. He loved me. I knew it. He made sure I felt it each and every day.
"What are you makin’? Don't let these fools eat up all our shit, Milkshake."
I laughed.
"I'm making all the things I know you love."
"Like what?" He asked, kissing my deeply.
My back was against the counter. He was resting himself against me. My breath caught in my throat, then released in a long sigh.
"Just say the word," I said, running my hands down his chest.
He looked at me for a long time then shook his head.
"Not yet, baby."
I had taken a long bath, dressed in a pair of Low Rise Levi's and a matching top that stopped below my breasts. I combed out my hair and let it fall around my shoulders, just the way I knew Seven loved it. I sat in front of the mirror and pulled out my make-up bag. I took a deep breath and began meticulously applying the shades as I remembered from the Essence magazine. I had torn the make-up counter at Macy's up. Fashion Fair and M.A.C. wouldn't know what hit them. I put everything away and took a long look at myself in the mirror. If I was gay, I would have fell in love with the girl that stared back at me.
I didn't know how Seven would feel about the transformation. I hadn't dressed this way before, and I hadn't worn make-up before. He said I didn't need it, and therefore, the make-over I had planned previously, was put on hold. Seven loved me for who I was, not for who he thought I could be, so putting it on hold made no difference to me. But for some nagging reason, I picked tonight. Maybe it was because I knew Trish would be there. I
"I have to go the store."
"For what? We have food," he joked, pulling me back into his arms.
I loved it there. I held out my hand for the keys to his midnight blue Lexus truck. He reached into his pocket and dropped them in my hand.
"Be careful, Milkshake."
"I will. I promise," I smiled at him.
I was in the kitchen frying chicken, making potato salad and putting together numerous sandwiches when he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.
"I love you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Baby, Darshon is coming."
"I know. Trish is, too."
"How do you know? She wasn't invited."
"She called and asked if I wanted her to send anything with Darshon. I told her no and invited her, too. If Satan is coming, he might as well bring a demon or two," I laughed, and he laughed with me.
It was a football party. The Forty-Niners were playing the Steelers, and Seven was acting like the K.K.K. and the Nation of Islam was having a truce meeting. The party was my idea. His friends had been calling all week wanting him to go here or there to watch the game. I wasn't a football fan and wasn't going to pretend to be. He refused each and every invitation and followed up with, 'My Milkshake ain't cool with that’.
"If it's cool with you it's alright with me. But I'm telling you, I'll beat Trish's ass in here if she thinks she's gon' be disrespecting you. Actually, I probably won't even get the chance. Ain't Gucci coming?"
Gucci was the girlfriend of Seven's dog, Niquon, who had nicknamed himself Six when they were kids; Six and Seven. I felt like a bookie. Gucci had informally made me her adopted little sister. We did everything together. She was my best friend. Friends were something I had inherited when Seven and I got together. His friends were my friends. I liked Seven's friends a lot. They weren't fake and phony, and they seemed to genuinely care about him.
"I'm not worried about Trish, baby. I can handle Trish."
I wasn't that same little insecure girl I was a few months before, the one that cringed in Trish's presence every time she hurled an insult my way. Seven had taken away all my insecurities and feelings of inferiority. He loved me. I knew it. He made sure I felt it each and every day.
"What are you makin’? Don't let these fools eat up all our shit, Milkshake."
I laughed.
"I'm making all the things I know you love."
"Like what?" He asked, kissing my deeply.
My back was against the counter. He was resting himself against me. My breath caught in my throat, then released in a long sigh.
"Just say the word," I said, running my hands down his chest.
He looked at me for a long time then shook his head.
"Not yet, baby."
I had taken a long bath, dressed in a pair of Low Rise Levi's and a matching top that stopped below my breasts. I combed out my hair and let it fall around my shoulders, just the way I knew Seven loved it. I sat in front of the mirror and pulled out my make-up bag. I took a deep breath and began meticulously applying the shades as I remembered from the Essence magazine. I had torn the make-up counter at Macy's up. Fashion Fair and M.A.C. wouldn't know what hit them. I put everything away and took a long look at myself in the mirror. If I was gay, I would have fell in love with the girl that stared back at me.
I didn't know how Seven would feel about the transformation. I hadn't dressed this way before, and I hadn't worn make-up before. He said I didn't need it, and therefore, the make-over I had planned previously, was put on hold. Seven loved me for who I was, not for who he thought I could be, so putting it on hold made no difference to me. But for some nagging reason, I picked tonight. Maybe it was because I knew Trish would be there. I
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