Chapter Six
Lincoln
Watching Charice drive off was yet another dig in my heart. It was moments like those that really got to me. Why did I still have to love her after all this time? I’d put everything into my season with the Cowboys to make up for the agonizing pain I was feeling on the inside. Still, it could not take away the fact that my heart longed to be with the only woman I’d ever truly loved. Charice. I couldn’t escape her. She invaded my thoughts and my dreams. At any given moment, my mind would drift off, just thinking about her. Every night I went to bed, I dreamt of her. At first it bothered me, but now it was just a part of my nightly slumber.
I remembered everything about her. Everything. I remembered how my fingers felt running through her long, thick, mahogany hair. I loved the way she used to caress my face after we made love. Her smile was innocent and infectious. I missed seeing her in my wifebeaters and jerseys and the way her luscious Georgia peach booty would bounce in short shorts. I missed how she would shyly play with her hair and bite on her bottom lip. I remembered how she’d close one eye and flutter the other while tilting her head back as she reached her climax from our lovemaking. I missed her dancing, her laughter, and the way she used to make me feel like there could be a hundred sexy men in the room and she’d only be focused on me. I missed the nutritious meals she’d made me, the advice she’d given me on my portfolio and my non-profits. I missed her intellect, her charisma, and her style. I missed the way she had a no-nonsense attitude while still allowing me to be a man. I missed—her. I more than missed her. I loved her.
Charice had been through so much, and I could’ve beaten myself for not being there for her the way I should’ve been. I felt like such a coward, and in a lot of ways, I was. When Charice really needed me to be there for her—the way I promised I would—I’d abandoned her and all the love she had to offer me.
As I grabbed my suitcase out of my SUV, I wished that Charice had come in and allowed me a chance to apologize to her. I needed to say it a lot more than she needed to hear it, but she had left me standing there, looking like the fool that I was.
“Excuse me, Mr. Harper,” one of the movers called out to me, breaking my train of thought. I turned to face him.
“Yes?”
“You have a visitor on your back patio.”
“Thanks.” I wanted to be alone to sulk in peace, but now I had to entertain an unknown houseguest. “Why don’t you fellas take about an hour break and come back?”
“You ain’t said nothing but a word. Yo, fellas, break time,” he called to the other four men. “Let’s roll.” They jumped in the truck and left.
I walked to the back. Ryan was sitting on my patio furniture, drinking a beer. He had a scowl on his face as he cleared his throat of the strong taste. He leaned forward and looked at me eye-to-eye.
“Stay away from my family,” he ordered.
Look at this nigga, I thought. I couldn’t help but to laugh. “You’re over here. I’m not at your house. And just why are you on my property without my permission? That’s called trespassing.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“If you don’t stay away from Charice, you’ll have more to worry about than trespassing.”
“She chose you, right? So why should you feel threatened by me?”
He jumped up, angered. “I’m not threatened by you.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, feigning shock.
Ryan walked up so that he was directly in my face. His jawline was tight. “If you even think of coming between Ricey and me, I will not hesitate to beat your muthafucking ass.”
I laughed loudly, staring right back at him just as seriously. “Trust me, dawg. The Lincoln you ran up on the day you found out about Ricey and me is not the same Lincoln standing here now. Nawimean? You made damn sure of that. So, if you step this way, I will fuck you up, and that’s a promise, bitch.”
“No, you made damn sure of it, you trifling muthafucka! And ain’t shit stopping me—”
“Get the fuck away from my house,” I interrupted, getting angrier by the second. “I’d hate for the number one running back in the league to be out this season due to knee injuries.”
Ryan stepped back and gave a derisive laugh. “I wish you would.”
I walked up to him and pointed my finger into his chest. “In case you forgot, you’re in my state now. Nawimean? This ain’t Atlanta or Dallas, bruh. Please believe me when I say you don’t want it with me. Now, I’m gonna tell you this one last time. Get the fuck off my property.”
Ryan put his hands up to concede this round and began to walk off. “Just so we are clear that this is your property, and the house down the street is mine. The house, everything and everyone in it, are mine,” he threw over his shoulder menacingly.
I laughed. “Okay, whatever you say to make you sleep better at night is cool. Just remember this, though. I was never a rebound fiancé, but you are definitely a fallback husband.”
Ryan stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. “Like we say in football, a win is a win no matter what.”
“And a bitch-ass nigga will always be a bitch-ass nigga no matter what.”
“Bitch-ass niggas gotta learn it from somebody. I learned from the best.”
“Have a good day, neighbor.”
“You too. We should do this again real soon.”
“Most definitely. Make sure you bring Charice with you next time. I’d love to show her all the rooms in my house. She can help me break them in . . . I mean decorate them.”
Ryan looked at me as if he could spit fire, and his eyes were dancing with anger. “Last warning. Stay the fuck away from my wife.”
I smiled devilishly. “Sure.” I shrugged, throwing my hands up. “But you might want to tell your wife to stay away from me first. Seeing as how she just left here about two minutes before you showed up. Have a good one, bruh.” I walked into my house without bothering to wait for a response.
I needed to take a nap to clear my mind. The last thing I wanted to do was take away my focus. That meant not exchanging in senseless arguments with Ryan. I knew coming into this that it would be hard to restrain my temper, but I had never in my life wanted to kill someone until the day I showed up at Ryan’s house and actually saw him and Charice as a couple—a married couple. It was official. I hated him. More importantly, I hated what he’d managed to get away with. But in due time, he would understand that what goes around comes right back around again.
Karma, old friend, is a bitch, I thought as I stretched across my bed for a short but much needed nap.