Hot Gurl Summer Read online

  Unfortunately, Beyonka was where my luck ran out. I hit one of those one-stop lab spots to get swabbed while I was on the road for a game down in Louisiana, and damn if I ain’t wake up to an alert on my phone a few weeks later with the results-and yup, I was the damn daddy. I didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna break the news to Summer, so Beyonka agreed to keep quiet about it as long as I hit her off with some cash for my lil’ man every month to keep a roof over their heads. Shit was going well and I made sure I got down to see him at least once a month, but when Summer posted and tagged me in a pic of us on our three-year anniversary, Beyonka’s sister saw the shit and convinced her she needed to air shit out & let the world know what the deal was. I planned to tell Summer about the baby once she got past finals because I didn’t want to add to her stress, but Beyonka’s messy ass sister just had to fuck up a nigga’s flow.

  “Man, I was gon’ let her know what’s up in a few weeks, but shit…”

  “But you done fucked it up. On some real shit, baby girl the day-one type you need on ya team when you go pro. Now, you stuck with a bird ass baby mama that is clearly with the shits, so yo’ shit ‘bout to be drama for the next eighteen years.”

  Mind you, this nigga was the same one last year talkin’ bout how I needed to knock Beyonka’s thick ass down to get my mind off Summer.

  “Uh huh, stuck, and it was yo’ ass that said let her ass cater to the dick for the weekend…” I mumbled.

  “Bruh, why the fuck would you listen to me? I ain’t with that bein’ cuffed shit. I ‘on’t even like my neckline too tight, nigga gotta be able to breathe.”

  Even though me and this nigga Boom had been caught up in some of the craziest shit over the years, I couldn’t even blame this one on him. Ever since my moms caught me knockin’ down her preacher’s daughter that day she came home early, she warned me my dick would get me into some heavy shit I couldn’t undo. I had no idea how the fuck I was gonna fix shit with Summer, but I knew one thing: Beyonka and her thirsty ass sister weren’t about to keep blowin’ my shit up. I had to get a handle on things, and quick before my personal shit bled over into the plans I had for my ball career.

  Pops wasn’t lyin’. Them hoes ain’t never loyal…

  Chapter Three: Summer

  Hmm nothin’, I been tellin’ you that nigga ain’t shit for years, sus. That nigga tall, play ball, got dimples, got a dick, and he got a pulse-that’s five clear signs he’s a hoe. How the hell he gon’ be for you when he for any pussy that’s takin’ applications?”

  I knew bringing my ass over here was a mistake, but I couldn’t think straight and needed to get out of the house. Next thing I knew, I looked up and was pulling up to January’s apartment for what I knew would be a nonstop “That nigga ain’t shit” session.

  I met January my first day in Atlanta. The airline put my luggage on the wrong plane, so I made the mall one of my first stops to grab enough clothes to hold me over until my bags got here in the next few days. Someone had backed into Shasta’s Jaguar F-PACE and left, but I snapped a pic of the license plate and was leaving a note on her car just as she came out. She said I did her a solid and we’d been tight ever since. I thought she was pretty calm for someone whose nice ass luxury ride had been hit, but what I didn’t know was Shasta was a well-connected chick; so well-connected that she had the name and address of the person the car was registered to before we could even pull out of the mall parking lot.

  “Shas, please. I’m not tryin’ to hear all that…”

  “And I’m ya friend, not ya fan, so I’ma tell you what you need to hear, not co-sign ya dumb shit. I been told you the nigga wasn’t shit and ain’t gon’ ever be shit. Every time he hit a jump shot, he add a new bitch to the stable that he gon’ be dickin’ down before he get out the locker room good.”

  “Why you always got some negative shit to say?”

  “And why you always playin’ the side chick to everybody else nigga? Cuz that nigga is everybody else nigga but yours. And who told you to open my damn chips!”

  This wasn’t the first time Shasta went off on a rant about Ju-Ju and it probably wouldn’t be the last, so I was only half-paying attention to her. It wasn’t until she paused to catch her breath that I heard my stomach growling, which reminded me that I hadn’t really eaten since I left Ju-Ju standing in our kitchen looking stuck on stupid. As much shit as she talked, I knew Shasta bought them mango sriracha chips specifically for me. She couldn’t eat spicy foods, so who else did she get them for?

  “So now what?” Shasta caught me off guard just as I was about to finish off the last of that fancy ass organic apple juice I knew she always had.

  “How the hell I’m supposed to know? That’s why I’m here.”

  “That nigga just left for an away game, right? Which means you got a good 48 hours free from that nigga, but I know you and all you gon’ do is sit around all sad and in love with a nigga that don’t love yo’ lil’ short ass back.”

  “Bitch, you don’t know me.”

  “Prove it. What you got planned for the weekend? I know what I’d have planned if I was stupid enough to be stuck on a sorry ass nigga like Ju-Ju, but humor me. What we gettin’ into, sus?” Shasta stood there glaring at me with her arms folded under her chest, making it look like she was all head and titties at the top.

  “Well, I was thinking about us doing a girl’s day at that new spa they opened down by-”

  “See, that’s that shit I be talkin’ about. This nigga done publicly humiliated you so pretty much whole world knows he slangin’ dick to every bitch with a pretty face, and that’s the best you can come up with? The damn spa?”

  “Bitch with an ugly face…”I mumbled, kissing my teeth.

  “Lies, I saw the post and done stalked her page. Yo baby mama in law is pretty as fuck. Her sister might look like some stale backwash, but that bitch he knocked up is fine as fuck.”

  “Shit, you wanna fuck her?” I frowned because how the fuck was she gon’ sit her crushin’ on the bitch that tricked my nigga into a baby?

  “Nah, I’m good. I don’t fuck broads with kids. But anyway, every bitch with a breast know the best way to get over an ain’t shit nigga is to get up under a new nigga. A grey sweatpants thottin’ ass nigga with some juicy lips and a thick ass tongue.”

  Funny thing was, she just described Ju to a T. And who said I was trying to get over him? Was I mad? Hell yeah, pissed the fuck off. But I had invested years in this nigga and I couldn’t really say I was ready to walk away. We’d been through too much together.

  “Unt uh, we not about to do that. You done spent enough time layin’ up in ya feelings, it’s time to shake that shit,” Shasta snapped when she saw me trying to get comfortable in her oversized lounge chair. She was right, though.

  Technically, Ju-Ju didn’t cheat, but that was our business. It seemed like we broke up just to make up sometimes, but the difference between us was even when we were on break, I still wasn’t checkin’ for no other niggas because I knew how men could be. Plus, it wasn’t like I had the free time to be in the mix of shit and out meeting new niggas. I knew my nigga and the last thing he wanted to hear about was some other nigga on campus fuckin’ on me. I had too much respect for myself to be on some hoe shit, especially the way gossip spread across campus.

  See, I did the math and technically, we weren’t together when Ju-Ju got this Beyonka bitch pregnant. He swore he wrapped up with her and a part of me wanted to believe him, but I was still blown at how this nigga pretty much lived a lie to my face for months-damn near a year! Ju-Ju had done a lot of foul shit, but never anything this wounding. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Some other chick that was probably on a mission to get up in his bag had given this nigga a baby, his firstborn, some shit I’d never be able to do because you can’t get a do-over on a firstborn. Even worse, this nigga gave the next bitch something he denied me.

  I got pregnant my sophomore year and, just like most college girls with over-protective parents
hovering over my every move, I didn’t know what the fuck I was going to do. Damn sure couldn’t call home and tell my parents, proving them right about me not being ready to go so far away to school. Ju was shook when I dropped that test in his lap but in the end, we both agreed it was best to terminate the pregnancy. As much as I wanted my baby, I wanted to finish school without the added stress. Seeing this bitch all happy in motherhood and shit, posting and gushing over pictures of a chubby ass, cute ass, big waterhead ass baby that looks just like my nigga had me in my feelings, though, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have me thinking about what our baby would have looked like. As bad as I wanted to keep with my plan to graduate early, all Ju had to do was say the word and we’d be parents to a bad-ass toddler in their terrible twos right now.

  “So, what’s it gon’ be boo? You gon’ lay there all sad in love while some hoe probably suckin’ yo’ nigga off ret-nah, or you gon’ do like my boo Meg said and get on some real hot girl shit?” Shasta was already mid-toss, twerkin’ her big ol’ ass on my thigh.

  “Shas, on some real shit-”

  “Get up, bitch! I’m not finna play with you. Either we gon’ get in the streets and find some new dick, or I’m gon’ help some new dick find you…”

  Y’all know what we did, right? Girls’ Night Out!

  “Ju-Jus is a weak ass, weak ass, weak ass bitch! On that weak ass, weak ass, weak ass shit! Don’t nobody want that nigga weak ass dick!”

  We linked up with our homegirl, January, the minute we stepped up in the club, and she wasted no time going in on my situation. I think she disliked Ju-Ju even more than Shasta. January was the biggest Megan Thee Stallion fan with a pulse, but after having to listen to Shasta’s mouth all day, I wasn’t about to sit up here and listen to January’s petty ass remix to Meg’s lyrics.

  “Okay, what y’all not about to do is keep my nigga name in y’all’s mouth all night. I coulda stayed home and listened to y’all do that shit.”

  “You mean e’rybody else nigga, right?” Shasta couldn’t resist taking a shot at me. “You gon’ fuck around and be a side chick in ya own marriage. Keep playin’ that dumb ass, loyal to a hoe ass dick role.

  “Bitch, fuck you!”

  “Keep on talkin’ shit and I’ma do just that. Bend yo’ lil’ ass over and really make you forget ‘bout that skinny ass nigga.” Shasta would push up on a nigga or a chick-maybe a nigga and a bitch depending on her mood-but I knew she was just talkin’ shit because we’d been down this road before. We were pretty much sisters, and ain’t nobody got time for that incest shit.

  “You know what? You right. I’ll put the nigga out my head for tonight if y’all stop bringing his ugly ass up.”

  “Biiiitch, it’s a bet!” January raised her third shot in the air and after grabbing the drinks the bottle girl had just poured, me and Shasta joined her, raising our glasses to kick off what my gut was telling me was about to be an evening of baldheaded hoe shit.

  “Aight y’all, you know how we do! Candy is dandy…” Shasta led.

  “But liquor make a bitch bust quicker!” January finished off, taking that double shot of D'usse to the head. Now look, my girl and dark liquor didn’t mix well and she knew this, so at that point, I was just hoping we’d make it through the night without being escorted out in handcuffs by Cobb County’s finest. Before I could even finish that thought, here January went with the shits…

  “Bitch is that my side nigga to the side nigga ova there! I’m ‘bout to fuck his fat ass up!”

  Chapter Four: Ju-Ju

  Aight, ma…yeah…love you, too.”

  It didn’t matter what she had going on or what time zone she was in, I could always count on my moms to hit my line after every game to give her congratulations and let me know she was there in spirit if she couldn’t attend. We’d normally end up on the phone for the better part of an hour, but she cut it short tonight, which was perfect because I always felt bad rushing her off the phone. I wasn’t a mama’s boy, but that lady was my everything. Too bad her and my grandma’s prayers weren’t enough to keep me out of this bullshit I knew I was about to walk into.

  I had already planned to pull up on Beyonka since I was in town for my game, but I knew this visit would be different than others because I hadn’t spoken to her since shit went down with her ol’ silly ass sister airing some shit out on social media that wasn’t hers to share. Look, a nigga know he fucked up, but all I wanted to do was make sure my lil’ man was good. All that other shit was for the birds.

  Beyonka’s condo was the last on the block on a dead-end road, and the minute I bent the corner and saw who was parked in her driveway, I got that bubble guts feeling and knew for sure some shit was gonna pop off. Even though the nigga had some fucked up ways himself, my pops always stressed how a real man will man the fuck up even when he knows it’s gonna end bad for him, so that’s what I was prepared to do. Plus, no amount of social media bullshit was gonna keep me from my seed.

  “Aww, look who finally decided to make time for you, Deucey…’bout time!” Beyonka’s sister, Tenaya, snatched the door open before I could even get up the walkway good. The only reason I had a smile on my face was because she had my lil’ man on her hip. I used to think I couldn’t love anything more than basketball- until I held Deuce for the first time. Even though I wasn’t sure he was mine while Beyonka was pregnant, I told her I wanted to be there when he was born, but Tenaya’s hatin’ ass conveniently forgot to hit a nigga’s line. Didn’t matter though because his face lit up anytime I was around.

  “What’s good, Deuce Deuce?” The minute he saw me, he spit out the pacifier I told Beyonka he didn’t need and reached those chubby little arms out to me. I used to think nothing could make me smile after a game like sliding between Summer’s legs, but holding my baby boy kept me smiling for days after I left his presence.

  “Unt uh, nigga, you don’t live here-you wait to be invited in. Fall back.” Tenaya stood in the doorway blocking my entry into her sister’s condo-the same condo I paid the rent on every month!

  “Go on now, Nay.”

  You got my sister’s money or nah?”

  “Nay, girl quit clownin’ so he can get my baby in from out in that air.” Beyonka slid her sister to the side so me and Deuce could come in. “Hey you.” She eased up on her tiptoes and into my free arm for a hug. All bullshit aside, Beyonka was a cool ass chick and a drama-free baby mama so far, something none of my teammates had. When it was just me and her, shit was clutch; none of that rah-rah shit, just two dope ass people co-parenting a fly ass young prince. Tenaya was always the cause of the bullshit and unfortunately, her and Beyonka were tight as hell. Her baby sister could do no wrong in her eyes, which meant Boom was right: it was gonna be a long ass eighteen years. Still, standing there looking down in Beyonka’s yes, holding baby Deuce, I can’t lie: it just felt…right.

  “Ewwww, don’t be holding my baby like that!” Nay just had to break up our happy family moment.

  “Bye, Nay!”

  “Good, ‘cuz I was ‘bout to say some shit that was gon’ hurt her lil’ petty ass feelings,” I mumbled.

  “She don’t mean no harm, Ju. I don’t know why y’all stay into it…” Beyonka leaned over my lap to wipe that excitement drool Deuce dropped anytime I was around. “Y’all both love Deuce and y’all both love me, so y’all should at least try to get along…”

  “Is that right?” I smirked at her, already knowing where this shit was headed. Beyonka said she had all the respect in the world for my relationship with Summer, which was why she agreed to keep quiet about Deuce until I could find a way to break the news to Summer, but her pussy always told a different story.

  “You know it is. I know you gotcha lil’ girlfriend or whatever, but that ain’t got shit to do with ya heart. Making a baby together is a whole different kinda love, Julani. You only have one firstborn, and that’s a special gift. Right, Deuce?” she cooed at our son, biting her bottom lip before returning her gaze to me. �
�You, me, and Deuce? That’s something that’ll always be solid.”

  Beyonka gave a nigga the death stare as she spoke those last few words; the kinda stare a broad gives you when she’s trying to use telekinesis to make the dick levitate up out the draws and dig the pussy out.

  I can’t even lie…she was doing a damn good job of sucking me up into that slick trap that I knew would feel good, but lead to more bullshit in the end. Summer still wasn’t fucking with a nigga, so B’s hospitality had me feeling something that had escaped me for the past few days: relaxed.

  “Here, lemme go lay him down, I only let him stay up long enough to see daddy. Ain’t that right, mama’s prince? Witcha sweet lil’ self.” The way she cut her eyes and dropped her tone when she said “daddy” confirmed what I already knew: my baby mama was on a mission tonight.

  Beyonka winked as she pried Deuce from my arms. He fussed a little and knocked the pacifier out her hand when she tried to pop it in his mouth to calm him, and that shit cracked me up.

  “Told you he don’t need that shit.”

  “Whatever, big head. Oh, your plate is in the kitchen, on the island. Kept it warm for you…”

  See what I mean? Drama-free and looked out for a nigga. Them little ass tights she wore that were smothering her ass did absolutely nothing to keep me focused on where my head needed to be at that moment, either: fixing shit with Summer. They made a nigga dick jump a little bit though, especially seeing the way her ass was fighting to get loose as she made her way upstairs to put Deuce to bed.

  I found out Beyonka was raised by her grandma and could cook her ass off, so I knew whatever she cooked was about to have a nigga full and satisfied. I had just got settled back in my seat good with my food when she reappeared on the stairs.