Trickery by Noire Page A

while he went into the kitchen. I leaned my head back when I heard the water running, and the refrigerator door opening and closing. He was rattling pots and pans, and pulling drawers opening and rumbling through silverware. I wanted to get up and go help him fix whatever he was fixing, but I was just too exhausted to move.
    I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes again Trey was setting a Cherry-wood serving tray on the coffee table. Two small candles were glowing from the tray, and he’d even folded two napkins in a cute little design. He’d fixed us a plate of Ritz crackers with grape jelly spread on top of them, and he’d sliced up some strawberries and apples and put them on a separate plate.
    “Yum,” I said, sitting up with a smile. “That looks real good.”
    Trey grinned, “It’s just a little something for you to sleep on so your stomach ain’t making a whole lotta noise tonight. You know the walls are thin as hell, and I ain’t tryna hear your stomach growling all night long.” He sat down next to me and reached for my hand.
    I hesitated for a moment.
    I swear I tried not to, but I automatically thought about Gino and how he used to hold my hand and say grace over our food. It used to make me feel so good when my man did that. Like we were bonded in the world together and he was asking God to bless us both.
    Trey was still reaching for me, and slowly I gave him my hand. He looked at me with real patient eyes, then lowered his head slightly and began to pray.
    “Father in Heaven, the Master of our world and the Owner of the Day of Judgment. Bless this food and those that are about to receive it. Allow it to nourish and sustain our bodies and souls. Amen.”
    I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I tore into them jelly crackers like they were little hunks of fried shrimp. Trey ate a few crackers too, and he played with a couple of strawberries, but he pushed most of the food toward me and told me to knock myself out.
    While I was busy eating Trey slid down to the end of the couch near my feet, and leaned back into the plush sofa. I crossed my legs at the ankles and nibbled on the sweetest strawberries I’d tasted in a long time.
    I looked over at him and I was surprised to see how intensely he was staring into my eyes. I got kinda embarrassed and coughed nervously, and then out of nowhere I started rambling off with the mouth.
    “I know I already said this a whole bunch of times before, but thanks for letting me stay here with y’all. I mean, I appreciate being here, I just don’t wanna cause no trouble between you and your girl.”
    I wanted to kick myself. Now why the hell did I say that?
    But Trey played it real cool. “My girl? What girl?”
    “Oh you know what girl,” I said, thinking about the fuck noises I had heard coming from his room the night he was over there pounding her pussy and blowing her fucking back out. I felt my cheeks flush as I remembered how I had fantasized that it was me he was over there deep-drilling, and I remembered how I had gotten my pussy nice and sticky as I masturbated to the sounds of them fucking and beat my own stuff up deliciously.
    And then I remembered how ashamed I had been after I had nutted all over my fingers and then heard the two of them arguing. That chick had been steady hollering, “No! What’s my name, Trey? Call me by my fuckin’ name!”
    Man, that chick had been raging on fire when she busted on me out in the hallway and asked me who I was. And after I told her, I would never forget how I felt when she stared at me and said, “Oh, so you’re Juicy, huh? Well since you’re the bitch whose name this niggah keeps moaning out while he’s fucking, I guess you’re the bitch he really wants to be with then!”
    All of this flashed through my mind as I stared into Trey’s dark, intense eyes, and I could tell that he was remembering that shit too.
    “Yo, I don’t know what you talking about, Juicy. I don’t even know no other