Maybe for the Summer

by Aubreé Pynn

“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,”

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.

“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.

“Can I make a home out of you?”

“What have I gotten myself into?” “Oh, baby, you don’t know? The best years of your life.”

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

Why you think I call you Butterfly? You kiss the petals of my crazy and you find it beautiful. I’m supposed to let another nigga have that?”

“Let’s graduate to dad. I’ve been told daddy has been taken and I don’t even want that thought in my mind.

“It is. Donna likes Lucci. I caught her in the sunroom yesterday trying to rap to Who Said That.”

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