Page 9 of Ms. V's Hot Girl Summer

Damn. The twins hadn’t prepared me for anything. They hadn’t even hinted at how gorgeous their mother was.

No hint of her beauty, or how her mouth quirked up when she was trying to hold back laughter.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I am way more mature than my age.” Whatever my vocal cords did, it sounded mad goofy to my ears. Placing extra depth on my words had been an instinctual action. There was nothing but to go with it. I hadn’t met a woman that made me this nervous and excited in like ever.

Damn, how could the twins not warn me? Give me a little heads-up at least?

Nah, they didn’t say shit. No mention of her dry sense of humor and how she tried to hide it and act all proper around me. No thought to warn me of the impact on my solar plexus when we first shook hands outside of the basketball court.

“Oh, I bet you think that.” Trinidad smirked again, her hand still in mine. I still remember the warmth radiating from the spot where she laid her palm on mine. It stayed with me for hours after seeing her. I lay down that day still surrounded by thoughts of Trinidad Velasquez. I cheesed all the way home, and till bed. Nose wide open from a few inconsequential words.

And before I could think twice, I jacked off to the thought of her lips around my dick, while I moaned “Ms. V, your mouth is magical,” over and over again.

Trinidad had lived in my head ever since. She had me simping the minute I met her.

She had the type of body I used to draw back in school when trying to make my classes go faster. Soft, brown-skinned, big-hipped, big-assed anime heroines with midlength locs, big expressive eyes, and mischievous smiles. And there she was, Trinidad, one of my anime heroines come to life.

But the light in my heroine’s eyes didn’t live in Trinidad. My chest contracted when I first realized that. I was convinced Trinidad needed an adventure. Something to jog her out of the everyday bustle. Something like what I was searching for in Ofele Town.

In the first few meetings with her, I did too much, talking and boasting about my job and my friends and well…sounding exactly like a twenty-five-year-old. Trinidad seemed unimpressed, and why wouldn’t she?

After several meetings I finally got her age from the twins. At ten years my senior, and with two children and a divorce, she’d seen plenty of life and had shouldered many responsibilities. Maybe if I’d share that side with her…nah. It was fun having a crush when everything else weighed me down. When the responsibilities of my day-to-day felt like my best personal deadlift record over and over again. Getting heavier by the minute. I had no shot with Trinidad, and worse than that, I didn’t think she liked me that much.

Trinidad Velasquez was a guilty pleasure and as unreachable as my dreams of pursuing a career in creative arts instead of law school. My paycheck was a biweekly reminder of that. And here I was supposed to be cheering myself up.

“Damn, arroz con guandules again? And chicken? Can’t you cook something else?” Camilo complained as he and Marcelo trampled their way into the apartment.

“It’s not arroz con guandules, it’s red peas. And take off your trainers. Neither of you helps to clean the apartment, but when it’s time to mess it up…” My two brothers had grown as tall as me in the past year. Marcelo was a couple of inches shorter than Camilo, and he couldn’t wait to join Camilo at Stony Brook this fall.

“Same shit, listen, Imma take Celo to a party tonight,” Camilo said, plopping down on the large sofa in our flower-splashed living room. Mom had interesting taste in decor.

“I thought the three of us were gonna play video games tonight?” I did a good job keeping the disappointment out of my voice. Eighteen and twenty were interesting years in a man’s life. Transition from school to college or work, moving into the world with a larger sense of belonging and responsibility. Or maybe that was my experience because these two acted like they were still teenagers. I didn’t have time to be as immature. At their age I was parenting them. Camilo and Marcelo had benefited from having an older brother. Just plain old luck that they got to act like overgrown children and I never did.

“Yeah, but there is this girl and…” Celo started explaining as I stirred the chicken, the aroma of the seasonings permeating the little living room and kitchen.

“You know you cannot drink, right?” I asked them both, looking up from the paila, refusing to let them see my disappointment.

They both looked back with bored expressions. Whoever broke first would lose the battle of wills. So I kept my gaze steady until Celo blinked first. Camilo kissed his teeth and waived my concerns away. Parenting brothers was a pain in the ass.

Now that my Friday had gone truly to the whole trash, I needed to pivot. Maybe I could hit up my friends, or if Trinidad gave the boys permission, maybe I could play video games with them. Brandon and Brian had been unable to contain their excitement when I told them about my Friday night plans. See, my cheerful thoughts had worked and presented an opportunity.

“Why are you smiling like a you won the lotto?” Camilo asked.

“Why are you minding business that ain’t yours?” I asked back.

“It’s that lady, the mom of the boys he goes to play ball with.” Celo explained that he’d met Trinidad a couple of times when he had joined me for a game of two against two with the twins.

“The one you said has a huge juicy a—”

“Camilo, what if that was your mother?” I asked, silently agreeing with the adjectives he used to describe Trinidad’s ass. But I wasn’t about to discuss Trinidad with them. She was a lady and older, and they had to show respect. My memories of Pa were scarce, but that advice I remember always.Respect women.

“Celo was the one who told me about it.” Camilo pointed at Celo, who leaned against the kitchen counter to watch me chop tomatoes, cucumbers, and radishes—greens. Mom needed greens, and these two probably didn’t eat a lick of vegetables unless I put them in front of them.

Celo shrugged and grinned. His expression said it all.

“Fine. Abandon me to your party—the party that you are going to and not drinking at ’cause I’m not leaving Mom alone to bail anyone out of jail. A’ight?”

Two sets of heads nodded solemnly.

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