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twenty-four

. . .

"There’s going to be five different looks,” the stylist spoke up as Eden sat in the chair, trying to juggle what was happening with Staysha moving in and out of the trailer, her hair being pressed out and the make-up artist.

“The first shoot will be here on Prince in a Lambo. Talent will be sitting in the driver’s seat, you leaning on the hood. We’ll walk down to Big Rod's and hit a few local spots. No need to worry about the gang,” the stylist continued, making Eden look up from her phone to the woman.

“I’m not worried about 3Way, EWG, or anyone else,” Eden shared, irritated and on edge, and couldn’t figure out why.

As the minutes of being primped and primed and having this stylist talk to her as if she were some green model an agency sent over to be a warm body, it seemed her irritation grew.

“I just need to know the location and looks.”

“Oh, excuse me, I was just trying to make conversation,” the woman huffed.

Eden bit the inside of her cheek, tempted to respond. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, but don’t. Thank you.”

She blew out a breath, trying to settle whatever feeling this was coursing through her being. She couldn’t figure out what it was. Hell, she’d spent days in the heart of filming alongside Maximus. Taking a sobering breath, her wayward feelings made sense.

Maximus.

He was like peace for her spirit, wrapped up in a tattooed, battle-marked body and handsome face. Eden groaned inwardly and looked toward the door.

“Who was that?”

Staysha took a seat behind her on the couch and finished eating her salad. “Talent’s representation is going over some final changes. Are you okay with doing a few shoots at the old house?”

Eden found Staysha’s eyes in the mirror. “Poppi's place?'

“Yeah, it’s completely up to you, though.”

“Who the fuck is this talent? I don’t want that to be a place used for clout,” Eden’s sentiments were cut off by a fist banging on the door. “Staysha, this shit is getting ghetto.”

“Relax. Finish up, I’ll handle it. You need to eat, too. Settle your nerves. Because you are on one.”

“Your nerves would be in your ass too if you were worried about a lawsuit popping up after this shoot goes live,” Eden rumbled. “If I’m scrambling for work now, I’m definitely going to be scrambling for work then.”

“Relaxxxx,” Staysha dragged out, stalking back to the door.

This time, when Staysha walked out, she didn’t come back. Instead, a presence her entire being had been longing for appeared. Shoulders squared, large afro as big as his presence. The sound of her dry swallow was audible.

Maximus’ nostrils flared as his eyes darted around the small space. That was the feeling – it was him. The irritability was evident, the aggravation, the desperate need for – sanctuary.

Eden found her voice, small but loud enough to ask, “Can we have the room, please?”

The group of stylists exited the wardrobe trailer, and Eden hummed as a sense of relief flooded over her.

“Normally, I ain’t the nigga to trip over a woman.

Especially one I haven’t made mine. But you.

..you ran off in the middle of the night and ghosted me.

After doing something to me. So, we can handle this one of two ways, E.

The first way, I can come up off this cool and follow your ass around the fuckin’ city.

Everywhere you step, I’m gon’ be right there.

Really stalkin’ your ass. And I really don’t want to do that shit because I got so much shit to fuckin’ do.

But none of the shit I have to get done can get done because I can’t sleep, and you won’t pick up the damn phone. ”

Maximus’s tone was so even that it was alerting. This man was off the cliff behind her, and she was damn near on his heels. “The second way, I can shut this entire shit down and kidnap your ass. And hear me, E, I’ve never been above snatching people off the street, not even you.”

“Max.”

“Nahh, not right now, E. I already don’t wanna be here.

Don’t say nothing that’s going to have me backing out of commitments.

We got business to handle. We’re going to handle the business we were paid for.

When it’s over, you’re coming home and you’re going to wrap your leg around me so I can get some fuckin’ sleep. Heard me?”

“Heard you.”

Maximus studied her robe-covered body for a long minute before he looked at the clothes on the rack, backing himself out of her space.

“Aight, I'll see you in a minute. Get dressed.”

Had he been anyone else, Eden would have been offended that he was talking to her like that.

Because it was him, there was a throb at the apex of her thighs accompanied by the wetness caused by his scent.

The mere scent that that man emitted turned her on in ways that could turn them into toxic lovers.

Eden pulled in an inhale and slowly let it go as she turned herself back to the counter. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

Dressed in her first look, Eden walked out of the space designated for her and into the cluster of people, including Staysha, Keon, and Miranda, the interviewer. Eden caught Miranda’s expression toward Maximus, who was off to the side, talking to the photographer while he lit a blunt.

“Staysha, I don’t remember if you told me or not,” Miranda started, unable to take her eyes off Maximus, who was donned in an unbuttoned Waynesville Heat baseball jersey.

It combated the mildness of spring morphing into summer.

Camouflaged cargo pants with his black flag hanging out of the back pocket.

If anyone before this point questioned whether or not Maximus represented his set, they were clearly reminded.

“Told you what?” Staysha queried, with squinted eyes, picking up on what Eden had.

“Does he have a girlfriend?” Miranda questioned. “Anyone claiming him?”

Staysha chuckled. “No, not yet.”

Eden scoffed to herself, a tinge of jealousy leading her over to Maximus. He threw his arm around her shoulder and muttered, “You look good.”

His eyes cast down at the pink crop top the stylist paired with the mini skirt and heels. “Damn good.”

Eden bit a grin. “You look like Trae Way?”

“You like it?” Maximus asked, blowing the smoke away from her.

“I do, but I shouldn’t,” she sassed. “You almost hurt my feelings.”

“Yours?” he asked, raising his thick brows in shock. “Do you understand that I haven’t slept in four years, and then you put that thigh over me, and I was dead to the world. Talk about some hurt feelings.”

Maximus led her a few feet up the street to the awaiting Lambo. Per Maximus’ direction, the photographer and videographer stayed close but were true to his directions. This photoshoot was about Trae Way, and with Eden at his side, he needed her to be comfortable.

Eden slid inside of the rented car, melted into the leather as she crossed her legs. Once comfortable and adjusting her body for the camera to capture these passing moments, she looked up at him. A Trae Way love story in the making.

“I promise not to hurt your feelings again,” she offered.

Maximus leaned down and swiped a piece of hair out of her face. “You know you can’t break promises with me? I take that shit personal.”

“I know,” she hummed, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. Her fingers danced over the words tattooed there. “Loyalty and respect.”

“You doin’ that shit that got me in this position, E.”

Eden withdrew and sat back.

Speeding down the blocked off streets, toward the first spot on the list. Burgers, Grills, and Chills. The anxiety was bubbling in Eden’s core again. She knew now that the spike of feelings didn’t belong to her. Maximus eased to a stop, prompting Eden to clutch his hand in hers.

Maximus pushed the smoke from his lungs and grumbled. “I'm cool.”

“The pain in the pit of my stomach begs to differ. Look at me, Max.”

Maximus locked his jaw and turned his sight from the empty tables, chairs, and bitter memories to Eden. “I’m cool.”

“We can get into the details later. But we’re working, and while we’re here, you’re Trae Way MB. The one who got out and didn’t let this place swallow him. So, for me and all these damn cameras you got following us, Superstar, be that nigga. Okay?”

Maximus nodded, releasing a breath. “Heard you.”

“Good now come open my door because I don’t know how to get out of this shit.”

Maximus chuckled. He stepped out, photos of him sitting on the hood with Eden in the passenger seat were taken as he moved.

In the middle of the empty outside dining area, Maximus posed with and without Eden.

His signature position of him standing behind her at the ‘order here’ window with his arm draped over her shoulder.

From BGCs to Big Rod's, a couple wardrobe changes and the two ended up at the final spot for the shoot. The steps of the house dubbed by anyone in Trae Way who knew something as, Poppi’s Place.

Eden stood at the gate and looked up at the house between renters. There was Maximus offering comfort, massaging her shoulders before wrapping his arms around her.

“She’s proud of you.”

“You sure about that? I haven’t done much,” Eden hummed, letting those inner thoughts come out and play.

“Nahh, that’s bullshit, and you know it. You standing at her steps in some designer shit, forging your own path, not giving a fuck about the odds stacked against you. That’s some g shit. Some Trae Way shit. Some Poppi shit. You Poppi’s Girl. What you tell me?”

“I don’t know, I’ve told you a lot.”

“You special. You got that shit on you. It’s jumping off on me too.”

Eden nudged him. “Stop talking to me like that. Let me finish my job, MB.”

“Do your shit then, E,” he rumbled, tapping her hips and stepping back.

The encouragement loosened her up, igniting a flame in her she’d thought had been snuffed out by the scandal with Rico, Natavia, and MRA.

“You know I got in my first fight on that corner,” Eden shared with Maximus, seated between her thighs.

“Hudsan James stole the bike I just got for my eighth birthday, and Poppi was hot. Not that he stole it, but that I was crying about it. She snatched me up and told me I better never cry over a little nigga taking my shit. She said them niggas can’t take shit you don’t give ‘em. You know she made me stomp across the street and get my shit back. He wanted to fight, I knew I had to get it back, so I beat his ass and then Poppi beat his momma’s ass for letting her son think it was okay to get into fights with little girls. ”

“Remind me to never try you,” Maximus replied with a laugh. “Poppi taught you not to take no shit.”

Eden scoffed in laughter, more so at herself than the situation. “And then I ended up taking some shit, afraid of letting her down.”

Maximus stole a kiss on her knee. “Shit is about to change, E. For both of us.”

“Heard you.”

The shoot wrapped as the sun was beginning to set.

Maximus and Eden were prepping to head back to the wardrobe trailers when a woman caught his eye.

Eden’s chest tightened watching Maximus stand up from the hood of the car and start toward the woman.

Over his shoulder, he found Keon and Staysha marveling over the photos.

“Ke!” Maximus shouted. "Get her home."

“You okay?” Eden asked, watching Maximus stride further away from her. “Max...”

“Ay, Eden,” Keon called, moving over to her. “Let him handle that. He'll call you.”

“Who is that?" Eden asked out of true concern.

“His moms.”