"You know very well
What you are
You're my sugar thing
My chocolate star
I've had a few
But not that many
But you're the only love
That gives me good and plenty"

Mtume—"Juicy"

Donnie dropped off Mary Anne and her new boo at the family mansion.

Archie was a respectable man who adored the Creed matriarch and gave Donne's adoptive mother a chaste kiss on her cheek before he left the driveway in a dark blue Porsche. Bianca blew a kiss to Mary Anne as they watched her go inside the home with her private security guard standing nearby to escort her in.

Donnie drove onto the street and clasped Bianca's hand in his when his cell phone blew up. The avatar was his clothing stylist, Manuel. He tapped the phone and turned down his music.

"Adonis, hi. It's Tanique. I'm confirming your appointment with us for Thursday at two."

Donnie's jaw tightened. Bianca folded her arms across her chest and turned her head toward the passenger window.

"Okay, Tanique. Got it. Thanks."

He tapped the cell and let the soft jazz tunes he played for Mary Anne to turn back up as the call ended.

"I thought you said Manuel wasn't working with her anymore," Bianca said.

Her words came out sharp and accusatory. Donnie rolled his shoulders and pushed his neck back into the headrest. He held in the deep sigh he wanted to release. The night had been going so well and he berated himself for taking the call at all. He'd been waiting for Manuel to get back to him for a week.

"He told me she wasn't. She left for Europe a year ago… Bianca… it's just a courtesy call."

"You know how I feel about that woman."

"Nothing happened—"

"Yeah, nothing physical. That's what you told me for two years, D—"

"Please… let's not do this right now—"

"Do what? Talk about a woman that you had an emotional affair with?"

"It wasn't an affair—"

"Then what was it? Because you sure as hell never explained that situation fully to my satisfaction. You told me she left the country and would no longer be associated with Manuel's company directly and now she's calling you on your private cell at… one in the morning?"

"I can't control what people do with their employees or when they call."

Bianca rubbed her forehead, and the tension in the car nearly choked him.

"Tanique and I grew close because of all the work she did for me. She was just part of the style team and Manuel's right-hand assistant," he said.

"That's what you tell yourself. I saw the pictures, D. All the parties she just happened to show up at when you were there. I went on tour and suddenly there's gossip all over social media about that clout chaser and you. You should've deaded that shit the moment she got out of line posting private photos of our home."

"It was a photo shoot for GQ—"

"She posted candid shots of you that should never have ever been released. They were outside the parameters of what we agreed could be shown in our home."

"She took them down, remember?"

"You should've fired Manuel."

"It wasn't his fault, and she left on her own afterward because she knew you were upset."

"Upset? I was pissed."

"I know… I know. Can we just leave that in the past?"

"You were attracted to her and the only reason your relationship didn't go any further was because Athena called you out on it. Your own sister had to shame you into detangling yourself from that bitch."

"I didn't have an affair with Tanique. I never slept with her, I never touched her, and I never crossed any lines except answering some harmless DMs when she wished me luck on the Nash fight and told me happy birthday. You know this business. I can be at a party or social event with hundreds of people that she may show up at, too. She's a stylist who hangs out with celebs just like you. People like her post stuff non-stop so they can attract more clients and shit."

"You were on a slippery slope, and I will not tolerate her working around you again. Fire Manuel or you can stay at Mary Anne's place."

"Damn Bianca. You will not let shit go—"

"Of course, I won't. When it comes to my family, I won't allow you to dog me out like your father did Mary—"

Donnie pulled their SUV over before reaching a freeway on-ramp.

"Like my father did what?"

Veins on Donnie's temples throbbed, and his lips pursed with anger.

"Forget it," Bianca said.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Donnie reached for her hand.

"I swear, I did nothing with her. We talked a lot and I let myself get caught up in the newness of someone giving me attention when I was feeling low—"

"I'm your wife! I'm the one you come to when you have doubts about things!"

"She was like a cheerleader for me back then. That's it."

"Me and Amara are your biggest cheerleaders. Was she worth potentially losing us over? You've always been so worried about your reputation and legacy as a Creed… did you ever stop to think you would dishonor all that you built over a stranger who only wants your money and status? Did my pussy become trash all of a sudden—?"

"Bianca, c'mon now—"

"No, I want to know… what was so special about Tanique that she had your private cell number and a way to your heart?"

Donnie placed his other hand on top of Bianca's.

"I embarrassed you and put us in an awkward position with the public because of unsubstantiated gossip. I would never do to you what my father did to Mary Anne. I admit I faltered, not for sex or anything like that, just the adoration. It was inappropriate and will never happen again."

"I want her number blocked and a new style team hired to handle your photo shoots from now on."

"Done."

Donnie picked up his cell and blocked Tanique's number. He called Manuel's private line in front of Bianca and left a message that his services were no longer needed because he was going in a new direction with his look. He'd have to scramble to find a new team before his next interview.

Bianca exhaled, and he pulled her into him.

"I hurt you and I'm sorry," he said into her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against his.

He continued driving to their home, and once they stepped out of the car and approached their front door, Bianca clutched his arm with her long nails.

"D, we've been together for over eleven years. If you're tired of me or fallen out of love, tell me straight up, okay?" Bianca pleaded.

"Baby… no… don't ever ask me nothin' like that. I love you and only you. That mess with Tanique was all on me, no one else. I trusted someone who I thought was cool, and that trust was misplaced with me being too open."

"I was your Day One. You told me you wanted to share all your moments with me when you asked me to marry you."

"I know, baby—"

"We have our daughter and her cousins upstairs who believe in you—"

"Bianca…"

He cradled Bianca's face and those probing brown eyes of hers shimmered with tears. She would cut bait and count her losses without hesitation if he acted on a lustful transgression.

"We're good. Solid. Ease that brilliant mind of yours," he said.

Her eyes watched his lips. The progressive hearing loss pushed her to read his mouth and eyes more. Donnie moved his fingers with his lips, telling her he loved her with all of his heart, and Bianca's full lips trembled. He kissed her mouth and rocked the doubt out of her body, willing the insecurity he planted in her mind to go far away into another cosmos.

Entering their home, their regular babysitter, Taylor, woke up from the couch in the den and signed to them that the children had been on their best behavior. A.J. and Janice's son and daughter begged to stay at their place because of the new lagoon pool in the backyard. There was a planned family barbecue the next day, and Donnie wanted to get Bianca rested and her thoughts away from Tanique.

Donnie paid Taylor and insisted that she sleep in the guest house and join the family for the barbecue gathering. He walked her to the additional property on their homestead and spoke to her about future babysitting dates. Later, he checked on their security system from his private office. Everything in and around their home was quiet.

He plopped down on his desk chair and pulled out his cell. Unblocking Tanique, he called her back and felt the pressure rise in his body.

"Hello?"

Tanique's voice came off playful and flirty.

"There was no need for you to call me so late on my phone," Donnie said.

"Sorry. Manuel told me to confirm, and I forgot to do it earlier through email. I called instead. No big whoop."

"Lose this number. I'm no longer using Manuel as my go-to stylist."

"All because I was doing my job?" Tanique said.

"Bianca heard you, and I thought you were Manny."

"I'm covering for his clients while he's on vacation. Not my fault you had me on speaker."

"I don't want any contact with you. If you run into me ever again someplace publicly, keep moving."

"What about privately?"

"Tanique, don't test me."

"Jesus Christ, Adonis, I'm joking. You're acting like we actually fucked or something."

"I'm laying out boundaries, which is what I should've done two years ago."

"Over a few naughty texts and harmless flirting?"

Donnie hung up and reblocked the number. Closing his eyes, the nervous beating of his heart brought him clarity of purpose. He hit a rough patch with Bianca two summers ago and they worked through it. Some ego stroking nearly became something disastrous. Tanique caught him slipping and wormed her way to his core.

So close.

Donnie was so close to caving in, and he knew better. Even when Tanique sent him pictures of herself with her hot girlfriends in Vegas, he ogled the photos longer than he should've before deleting them. He never told her to stop. She was one of hundreds. Women were always sliding into his DMs. He blocked often and moved on. It was part of the life. Bianca had racy DMs too, but she chain-blocked people who line-stepped past normal fan admiration for her craft.

Tanique had been funny. Clever with jokes and snide comments when they worked together on location shoots or when he needed new drip for special occasions and she brought over racks of clothes, shoes, and accessories along with Manuel. Efficient, punctual, and professional, the woman did her job well. A chance encounter at a Las Vegas bash brought them together outside of work. He ran into her with his small group of friends at the Bellagio and they all kicked it together with a famous R & B singer who had a residency. Music, liquor, flashing lights, and loose lips had him chatting with her more than he should have that night. Bianca was on tour, and Amara spent the weekend with Mary Anne.

Tanique made sure he and his crew made it back to his suite safely past the groupies, and he thanked her the next day. The texts and cute emojis came after that. Corny jokes. Then the sexy photos of her various outings. She hid the obvious flirting by making sure she never sent him selfies of just herself alone. There were snapshots of new fits and styles he might be interested in exploring. He'd show the clothes to Bianca until she grew suspicious of why Tanique was contacting him so much and not Manuel. Nothing felt illicit until quick chats turned into hour-long conversations about his work that he hid from Bianca.

Athena flounced into the mix after she hit Donnie up because of a viral hashtag about him that showed the blurred photos of half his derriere as he changed clothes in his den with a cheesy grin on his face at being caught in a compromising position. Donnie thought little of it because Manuel was in the photo too, trying to fix a flaw in a pair of slacks, and all the comments had been positive. But Tanique's comments had insinuated there was more going on between them, beyond the pictures.

His sister was a tsunami of acidic outrage and went off in front of Bianca at the family mansion. Athena read the fuck out of Donnie and it shook him to his senses. It also humbled him about his own mother, and he guessed that she had been someone like Tanique, a pretty good-time girl who didn't care about a man's family or vows. As long as she had access to a rich and famous star, a devout wife was an afterthought. Donnie looked at his wife as a younger version of Mary Anne and asked Manuel not to have Tanique assist him on the job. She left for Europe soon after to work with overseas clients. It probably helped that Athena rode her ass online and became the buffer for Bianca, keeping his wife out of the fray. One thing his sister wasn't afraid to do was drag someone publicly by the short hairs.

He came clean and confessed to flirting and talking to Tanique outside of work hours. Bianca took a long time to trust his interactions with other women not in her presence. She took a week-long trip to Hawaii to figure out what she wanted to do next. Their reunion had been somber, but it strengthened their bond to communicate honestly about their mutual needs going forward. She wrote several songs during that time that became popular singles for other artists.

Donnie walked up the stairs of his home, checked on the children, and padded his way to the master bedroom. Bianca huddled under the covers as he undressed, brushed his teeth, and put on his wave cap. He smothered her with kisses and enveloped her in warm, muscular arms until her heartbeat thumped against his chest. She trailed a finger across his left nipple, playing with the tiny hairs around it, humming softly to herself. Her hearing aids sat on her nightstand and he decided not to speak, so she wouldn't have to strain to hear. Kissing the side of her temple, he bathed her face with more moist kisses that made her giggle in his arms.

When their lips connected, the urgency of their mouths fusing into one overcame them both. She kept her nightgown on as he pulled down her panties and positioned himself naked between her thighs. Her folds parted gently as he entered her. Draping her nails against his nape, soft sighs and needy moans spilled from her and Donnie grunted as he gave deft strokes to her slick walls. Pushing her thighs wider with his weight, he welcomed the squelching sounds between them. They needed it like plants needed water. Lovemaking helped him beat back the thoughts at the fringes of his mind. Had Athena not intervened in the past, he might have given in. No matter how much shame and guilt plagued him, the truth haunted him.

He had wanted to fuck Tanique.

###

Athena glanced at her watch.

They were supposed to meet at noon, but she arrived a half hour earlier to relax with a stiff drink and ponder what the hell she was doing, really. Her job had her traveling a lot, and when her schedule was clear after two weeks, she contacted Damian and gave him options for when she would be available to meet him for a lunch date.

He told her the name of a little café in Santa Monica that she had overlooked for years. Sitting in her seat by the front window, she studied the décor with avid interest. It was a mix of Southern California beach chic mixed with cottagecore quaintness. The odd mix seemed to work because they packed the place with tourists and local regulars who snapped pictures of their food and the surroundings.

She lifted her old-fashioned Mai Tai and placed the straw between her lips when Damian popped into the entrance doorway and she nearly choked on the intake of liquor into her throat. A rich purple button-down shirt couldn't hide the muscles rippling underneath, and she wasn't the only one staring at the dark designer jeans that molded his thighs and ass with the blatant disrespect of being out in public looking that fine. Her gaze tracked down to his feet where sleek, comfortable dress shoes completed the ensemble. There was a slight bulge where he covered his ankle monitor on his right foot. Damian looked so good from the legs up no one seemed to notice the tracking device. A fresh lineup and facial hair trim had turned him into the complete thirst trap she spotted at her Mama's mansion. He carried a small neon-green gift bag in his hand.

Athena fingered her hair and looked down at her basic tight navy-blue sweater and couture ripped jeans with casual heels, wondering if she should've done a bit more to match the crispness of Damian's put-together sartorial choices.

Heads turned in the café to get a good gander at the stud muffin that sauntered her way with a stroll that carried assured confidence.

Lord, if he smells as good as he looks…

Damian stood by her side while she sat in her chair with a dreamy expression of visual satisfaction. He glanced at his watch before bending toward her. She stood up to give him a friendly hug, and his cologne was subtle. It smelled good, but he needed to have a scent that matched the presentation he flaunted in the world.

"I tried to get here before you, but you beat me," he said.

He took the seat across from her and she was so tempted to ask him to sit next to her to feel the warmth from his body again. Damian was rock solid flesh at the top, and her cheek tingled from where his plush lips had pressed into her skin. Other places tingled too, but she ignored it and focused on the sculpture of his face and those kind brown eyes staring at her like she was an enticing snack for him to devour. If sitting near him aroused her, she sensed immediate danger if he touched her anywhere else.

"You look… giddy," he said.

She held up her drink.

"Starting early, I see," he said.

She passed him the drink menu and then flagged down their server.

"We'll need time to order our main meal, but could you bring me the short rib sliders I asked about earlier," she said.

"That sounds good," Damian said.

"Make that two orders," Athena said. "You want a drink?"

"Water is fine," he said.

He gazed at her face and Athena shivered, feeling vulnerable to openly admiring his beauty.

"You finally made time for me," he teased.

Their server brought over his water, and he drank it, the large glass quenching his thirst. A small droplet of water rested on his bottom lip, and she automatically reached across the table and swiped it with her finger. The intimacy surprised her and him, too. Her index finger lingered near his mouth and her eyes couldn't peel away from how fleshy and soft it was on the outside. Pulling her hand away, she looked around the café again. Damian picked up the drink menu.

"I think I will get something stronger," he said.

Within a few minutes, they were laughing together as Athena explained the different drinks to him she thought were good. Being locked up so young, Damian hadn't experienced ordering grown-up beverages in an establishment. He settled on a Black Manhattan and once his drink arrived, their sliders did too. The appetizer was big enough for a meal, but they ordered more food. Salmon and asparagus tips for him, and shrimp tacos for her. There was no time wasted eating and smacking their lips together.

"You picked a great place to eat," she said, wiping a light pink sauce from her lips.

"I read about it in the L.A. Weekly. It's supposed to be one of the best eateries on the west side for 2023," he said.

"Have you been here before?"

"No, I just picked it out of the top ten list that I thought you would like."

He leaned over and lifted the gift bag from under the table.

"Before I forget, this is for you," he said.

Athena took the bag.

"What's this for?"

"Helping me. Being nice to a stranger."

She opened the bag and rifled through the light blue tissue paper.

"Oh, wow," she said.

She pulled out a delicate three-votive candle set enshrined inside a small candle holder shaped with three gold lotus flowers. The candles were sky-blue soy ones scented with lemon grass and holy basil.

"This is so lovely and thoughtful, thank you so much," she said.

She touched the lotus flowers and sniffed the wicks.

"That book you loaned me had a sticker on the back where you bought it from off Wilshire. I went there to look around and thought you'd like that since spirituality is your thing."

Athena regarded him with sincere affection. She returned the candles to the bag, and they shared a crème brulé for dessert. Damian had a sweet tooth, so she ordered another for them. They talked about Smokey, ordered more drinks, and vibed with one another. Other than her giving pointers about his new trainer, she and Damian only talked about meditation, chakras, and then her short-lived career as a one-time MMA Featherweight Champion when she was twenty-three. Where had the time gone?

Glancing at her cell phone to track urgent messages from her boss on her off time, she noticed they had been eating, talking, and laughing for three hours. Their server never urged them to leave to give up their seats because they had ordered so much food and libations. Athena didn't want to leave.

"Would you like to take a walk by the beach with me?" he asked

"I'd like that," she said, grateful that they would spend more time together.

Damian paid cash, left a hefty tip, and she carried her gift bag like it was Christmas. They walked down two blocks and crossed the street. The Santa Monica Pier loomed before them, but they bypassed that and strolled down Oceanfront Walk.

"What's your goal, Damian?" Athena asked.

She brushed back her hair and gazed at his eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.

"Get back on my feet. Find my own place… train hard and start lining up fights to become the next heavyweight world champion."

"Think you're good enough to take on my brother?"

"I'm better than he ever was. I got him started with early training. Used to take him to Powell's gym over in Inglewood before I went in the pen."

"Really?"

"He never told you that?"

"He said nothing about you or who he hung out with when he was away from us."

"Probably didn't want you to know he was deep in those streets with me."

Athena wagged her finger at him.

"See, this is where the disconnect comes in for me. You exude hood energy, but your mind, the way you see the world… you come off as a poser."

"A poser? How?"

He grinned.

"Your intellect tells me good schooling, your manners, too."

"I went to a private parochial high school in Eagle Rock. Grew up knowing the odds were against me, but I was going to make it no matter what. Athletics was my way out. I excelled at boxing."

"How did you meet Adonis?"

"At a kickback party in Leimert Park. We clicked. He was a young pup looking for fun. I took him under my wing. Introduced him to my trainer, Mack Winters."

A sea breeze blew Athena's hair around her face and she blinked when a few strands got caught in her eyelashes. Damian lifted the hair from her eyes and she held her breath. His life had been cut short, stunted because of a mistake. She heard no bitterness in his voice, but there was something there, deep down inside of him, that wanted payback for what he lost. A fire crackled in his spirit that would spread the longer he acclimated to his new life. Athena recognized that flame. She had it at one time when her family turned against her desire to become a champion. It gnawed at her spirit, that need to prove everyone wrong about who she really was. A fighter. Just like her father.

"I would like to see you go to the top," she said.

Damian's face loomed closer to hers.

"I want you to watch me make it happen," he said.

She blew a small bit of shuddery air between her lips. A seagull squawked nearby. The scent of golden sand and salty seawater tickled her nostrils and Athena lost track of time and space. Damian held her chin, and she watched him kiss her as if she weren't inside her own body. Plush velvety lips brushed against hers and she welcomed the exploration. Opening her mouth for him, she tasted the sweetness of the crème brulé on his tongue. Her soft fingers slid up his shirt, and she crossed her hands on the back of his neck. People swarmed around them and they didn't care about being in the middle of a busy walkway kissing. Juicy lips, tongues, and simple pleasure were all that mattered to Athena.

Damian pulled away first and stared into her eyes. They shared a kinship of sorts and Athena leaned into him and continued their physical connection, wanting to feel his chiseled frame against hers. It all felt right and natural, like they were meant to have that moment at that exact second in time.

"You alright?" he asked, after releasing her once ten minutes of kissing had passed.

"I'm good," she said.

He smiled. The crinkles on the side of his eyes made her heart swoon. Damian reached for her hand and they continued their long walk, fingers threaded together, enjoying the sun on their skin and the shared taste of their lips lingering like the sweetness of amaretto.