The Girl of His Dreams (23 page)

“Y
o, I had'a real nice time wit' you tonight,” Antonio tells me as he's pullin' up in my driveway.

“Yeah, I had an
okay
time with you, too. I didn't have to cut you,” I say jokingly. Truth is, I really, really, really had a nice time. Even though I feel kinda bad for ordering up all that stuff and spending his money like that. And, yeah, I was doing it tryna be funny. Heck, I didn't even eat all of it. But he didn't flinch or complain, so I guess it was all good. Well, he paid the bill without breaking a sweat so it must'a been. Anyway . . . He's not as conceited as I thought he was. I mean, yeah, he's cocky with it. But it's more like he has a buncha confidence. Like me.
But he's still a dog!

He laughs, putting the car in park. He shifts his body toward me. “Oh, word? Just
okay
, huh?”

I keep from grinning. “Yup. But you're not as bad as I
thought
you were, either.”

“Oh a'ight. That's wassup. So that means we can chill again tomorrow night, then.”

“I'm booked,” I lie.

“Yeah, a'ight. What about next weekend? Friday, Saturday,
and
Sunday?”

I eye him. Sweet Lawdy, he's too effen cute!
But he's no good, girl.
Like my granny would say, “He's rotten right down to the core. Even the worm don't want 'im, chile.” I almost laugh at the thought of her saying that about him.

“I don't think so,” I say, shifting in my seat. He wants to know why. “ 'Cause I still think you're mad trouble.”

He places his hand up over his heart like he's been crushed. “Ouch, girl. Cut me deep, why don't you?”

I shrug. “I'm just saying. Like I told you before, I know your kind. And I'm not interested.”

He sighs. “Damn, yo. We still on that? I thought we moved past that already.”

“No,
you
moved past it.
I
never left it. I think you got too much going on. And I don't need the trouble, or the headache.”

He grins. “Nah, yo. I'm good trouble. Good lookin', good body, good lover... I'm all 'round good, ma—true story. And I got somethin' for ya headache, too.”

“Ohhhhhmiiiiiigod, you are so full of ya'self, boy.” I open the car door. “Thanks for the meal. It's been real. But I'm out.” He jumps outta his side of the car coming over to me.

“Ninja,
boom!
What you doing?” I ask, stepping back, placing a hand on my hip.

He shakes his head. “Chill, ma. Put the claws in. I'm tryna be a gentleman, that's all. I'm only walkin' you to the door.”

I roll my eyes, laughing. “Boy,” I say, pointing toward the house, “the door's right here in front of us.” I reach inside my bag for the keys. The house is dark. Not one light on. A mess. I already know Mariah went to Connecticut for the weekend with her boyfriend so she wouldn't be here. And I know my aunt is in Atlantic City. But I kinda thought my mom would be here
. Mmmph. I bet she ran off to Brooklyn. She wouldn't let me go, but I'll bet you that's where she is. All pressed up, lip-locking it up with Daddy.
Now I'm kinda pissed that I'ma have to stay pressed up in this hellhole, alone.

Antonio grins, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walk up the driveway. “Maybe a brotha's really diggin' you and ain't tryna see the night end.”

I remove his hand. “Well,
maybe
, all good things gotta come to an end.”
I can't believe she's not even home! She coulda at least sent me a text or called to let me know she wasn't gonna be here.

“Yo, not
all
good things gotta end,” he says, stepping up into my space. I step back, backing into the door. He looks down at me, slowly pulling in his bottom lip. I try not to look too long at him. But it's real hard not to when he's practically all up on me. “Yo, real rap, ma. You sexy as hell. I don't know what it is 'bout you, but I ain't gonna rest 'til I figure it out, yo.” He leans in to kiss me, but I shut it down.
Don't do it, boo! Stick to the script!

“Oh, really?” I stop him with the palm of my hand pressed up on his chest to hold him back. “Well, the only thing you should be tryna figure out is your way back home. So good night, boo.”

He starts laughing. “Yo, you got that. I'ma bounce. But I'm sayin'.” He makes this cute little sad face, poking his bottom lip out. “You really want me to dip?”

“Yes, Antonio.”

“Can I come in, yo?” he whispers, tempting me with his lips as they glide their way down my ear, my neck, and all along my collarbone. He's driving me . . . wild.

But I'm not goin' there with him, not tonight. I push him away, shaking my head. Not because I don't wanna let him in, but because I need to let him know he can't manipulate me with his sexy grin and those lips that are practically causin' me to melt.

“Good night, Antonio,” I say, quickly pushing open the door and slamming it in his face, before he can change my mind.

He groans on the other side of the door. “Ugh! You killin' me, yo. This ain't over, yo. I'ma be back tomorrow for you. Be ready by three, yo.”

I press my back up against the door, holding back a giggle.

 

O-M-G, I can't believe this is the first weekend that I've been in Jersey and I haven't wanted to be in Brooklyn and hang out with my crew. I've had so much fun it's insane. I've been out with him
all
day. He came at the time he said he would and we drove alllllll the way down to Pier Point—this South Jersey beachfront town that has a strip of casinos, shops and restaurants—where we walked along the boardwalk, laughing and talking, then finally taking off our shoes and going down onto the sand and walking along the edge of the water, letting it splash up against our feet. I couldn't believe how cold the water was, even though it was warm out today. But it felt good. So did being with him.

We walked through some of the casinos, and watched all these fools gamble up their money, probably their life savings tryna hit it big. Then we played a buncha games at the arcade before going out one of the piers where they have a buncha amusement park rides. We rode the Ferris wheel and a few other rides, and I watched Antonio shoot hoops and win me two cute, cuddly teddy bears. “Now you have something to cuddle when I'm not around,” he said, his lips on my ear as he squeezed my hand.

I rolled my eyes at him, but inside I was cheesing, hard. Then we went into Ripley's Believe It or Not and took a buncha pictures, goofing off. And finally, we walked to Trump Plaza and ate at Rainforest Café. That was kinda cool since I had never eaten there before. And seeing all the live tropical fish, all the animated wildlife, and hearing the cascading waterfalls made it feel like you were really in a jungle. I can't lie. Going to Pier Point was really fun. I mean, it's not like being on Coney Island, but it was still fun. Different.

I glance at my watch as we finally pull up into my driveway. It's only midnight. The ride home seemed so much quicker than the ride going down, maybe because there wasn't as much traffic coming back. I kinda wish we were still on the Parkway stuck in traffic. Crazy, right? At least then, the night wouldn't have to end.

“So does
this
count as a date?” Antonio asks, shuttin' off the engine. He leans in toward me, his hand on my thigh.

I smirk. “Maybe.”

He laughs. “Yeah, a'ight. Why you stay stylin', yo? Keep it a hunnid. You dig givin' me a hard time, don't you?”

“Lies,” I say, smiling. “I do no such thing.”

“Yeah, a'ight. Yes, you do. I bet you get off on it, too.”

He leans in closer. “Can I get some'a them sexy lips?”

“Good night, Antonio,” I say, climbing outta his car. “Thanks for the . . .
date
. I had a lotta fun.” I smile at him when I tell him this.

He quickly gets outta the car. “C'mon, yo. It's mad early. I don't wanna go home, yet. Let's chill some more.”

I eye him. “Well, you ain't gotta go home, boo-boo, but you can't get up in here. Not tonight.”

He looks up at the house. “I'm sayin', though. It's lookin' mad dark up in there. Don't look like anybody's home. I think maybe you should let me go in wit' you so I can make sure e'erything's good. Or you can just come back to my crib 'n' chill wit' me.”

I raise my brow. Narrow my eyes.

“Nah, I ain't tryna be on no freaky trip wit' you, real rap.” He grins. Crosses his heart. “Scout's honor, yo. I told you last night, I'm bein' a gentleman.
All
weekend, even if it kills me, yo.”

I laugh.
Girl, just go on and chill with this boy. It's not like you have anything else better to do.
“Then it should be a very sloooow death. 'Cause trust and believe, if I let you up in here you're
not
getting any.”

He grins, rubbing his chin. He steps up into me. “Can I at least get a kiss?”

I push him back. “Nope.”

“A'ight, a'ight. How 'bout some milk 'n'
cookies
? I'm hungry.”

I laugh. “Oh, you think you slick. You won't be getting any cookies from me, boy.”

He laughs with me. “Nah, I'm sayin'. I'm hungry.
Real
hungry.”

The way he says that makes me think he's talking about more than just food. I smirk. “Uh-huh. I bet you are.”

He licks his lips. “C'mon, yo. I know you got some warm cookies up in there I can nibble on.” Oooh, he's so dang sexy!

I grin. I can feel him practically all up on my booty as I slip the key into the lock and open the door. “Can you dance?” I ask over my shoulder. I decide to have some fun with Mr. Antonio Lopez.

He gives me a confused look. “Huh?”

“Can you dance?” I repeat, stepping through the door. He's right in back of me, pushing the door shut as I spin around to face him. He tells me, “Yeah, I can dance. Why you ask me that?”

“Beat me in a round of
Dance Central
, and you can have all the milk
and
cookies you can handle.”

He laughs. “Oh, word?
Dance Central
? You think you want it wit' me?” he busts a move, pumping his hips. “Yo, this is gonna be like snatchin' candy from a baby. Don't you know I'm the king of dance moves?
Dance Central
is my ish, yo. But if you tell anyone, I'ma hafta snap ya neck, for real for real.”

I laugh with him. “Uh-huh. That's what your mouth says. We'll see.” I tell him to follow me. We walk through the living room, through the kitchen, then down the stairs into the basement where Aunt Linda's family room is. She has a sofa, entertainment center, and flat-screen TV, along with an Xbox and PS3 game stations. He wants to know what happens
if
by some chance he loses. “Oh, you will lose, boo-boo. And when you do, you'll be tossed up outta here with
no
milk... and definitely no warm
cookies
.”

“A'ight, yo,” he says, pulling off his shirt, and kicking off his kicks. “That's what it is.” I try not to stare at his chest or his arms, or the way his wife beater wraps around the ripples of his abs. I look down at his long, socked feet, and back up at him as he rubs his hands together. “Let's do this. Let me see what you got for me, ma?”

I click on the TV, turn on the Xbox . . . and let the games begin!

 

“Nah, you cheated, yo,” he says after I rip the dance routine to 50 Cent's “In Da Club.” We're both sweating and outta breath from dancing all hard, tryna keep up with the graphics. I can't even front on this boy; he got moves... along with his game. But I still slayed 'im.

“Cheated nothing. I stomped you out fair and square, boo-boo. You saw it. Flawless, boo. Face it. I won. You lost. And it was a song
you
picked. Hahaha.”

“Nah, I wanna 'nother round, yo.”

I laugh. “OMG! I can't believe I have the one and only, Mr. Antonio Lopez, school playboy, up in here begging for me to whoop him in
Dance Central
. Oooh, I wish I could get this on video. I'd have it all up on Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram.”

“Oh, word? So you'd really do me dirty like that?”

I crack up inside at the thought of seeing this sexy hunk on video. “Yup. I sure would. And I got just the song for you.” I select “Cupid Shuffle” by Cupid. “It's all you, boo-boo.”

“A'ight. Get ready to feed me that milk 'n' them cookies, yo, 'cause I'ma 'bout to do my thing. . . .” I bust out laughing at him walking it out, then right kicking it up. He's killing it. But I ain't gonna tell him that. “Oh, you think this is funny, huh? I'm the king of the shuffle, yo.” Who woulda thunk Mr. Smooth was mad cool and fun?
Mmmph.
Definitely not me.

The next round, he tries to be funny and picks some old dusty eighties song, “Let the Music Play.” “Oh, see. You tryna be funny.”

He laughs. “Nah, yo. Do you.”

“Whatever, boy,” I say, flipping him the finger. “It's all good. I'm still gonna kill it.” As soon as the music starts playing, I go into my routine. “Ha! Flawless! You see that? You ain't ready, boy!”

“Nah, eff that, yo,” he says, blocking the screen. “Yo stay tryna cheat.”

I laugh. “You stupid. How am I cheating? All I'm doing is keeping up with the dance moves, and serving it up. Bam!
Flawless!
Ha!
Flawless!
”