Maybe for the Summer

by Aubreé Pynn

Julius is a member of a gang. There is gang activity. Gang activity means urban things are happening. If for some reason you are allergic to such activity and it brings the Donald Duck out of you…gon’ head and head out.

“I ain’t fuckin’ fire it though. And I could’ve lit that bitch up. But I didn’t. See… that’s growth shit.”

“Julius,” he corrected. “Or Jules. You, Ms. Day, call me one of those. That Lucci nigga don’t exist here.”

“The women who were raised to be good girls always end up with gangstas. The roses that grew out the concrete. The overlooked. Clean them up and elevate them. Enjoy the ride, Day. I got to say, it’s been the most rewarding journey of my life,”

“You think you’re leaving this here?” Bebe asked with a chortle. “For someone with a masters, you’re acting a little slow.”

Daysha was a woman who required more – depth, love, patience, respect. And oddly enough, Julius wanted to study, research, and understand exactly how to be that. Because another man having what she possessed and mishandling it would drive him crazy.

“And you can’t run off when that bull starts bulling, you got to step in, sink your heels in or the soles on your little designer sneakers and talk to that nigga. That’s the nigga only we get to see. The more he’s gone off you, the more that bull is gonna pop out. So prepare yourself to stay if you staying. If not, don’t hype us up to let us down.”

“Again. You aren’t letting him touch you again. I know dick imprint when I see it. Ohh, soft love from a roughneck nigga is literally the best.”

He was teetering on the edge of making a home out of her. But before he did, he needed to know if his heart was safe in her garden. If he watered her soil, would she protect what they made.

“Butterfly?” Julius nodded. “Yeah, adding beauty to everything you land on. Got me trying to be your garden and shit.”

“Until the life leaves my body, I’m with you. And even then, you got my soul anchored to you. Locked in, Butterfly.”