“Sounds too much like a relationship, which is exactly where we were years ago, which didn’t work out because you wanted something different and pulled back.” She pulled the yellow blouse over her head and plopped onto the mattress to put on her shoes.
Rashad snatched them up before she did, and they stared at each other, at a sort of standoff. A battle of wills.
He crouched before her and cradled one foot in his hand. She went still, and he knew she was holding her breath.
He carefully and gently placed the pump on her foot. He did the exact same to the other foot and then slid his hand up her left calf. “You think it’s easy for me to let you walk out of here? It’s hard as hell. Two seconds ago you were half naked. But I want more, Layla.”
He gently massaged her soft flesh, and she inhaled sharply, the sound dropping like a grenade in the silence of the room. Finally, he settled on his knees, rested his arms on either side of her hips, and pushed himself between her thighs.
“I’m different,” he said.
“Different how?”
“I don’t want to screw around like I used to.”
“Then you’ve changed quite a bit.”
“I could say the same about you,” he said.
She laughed briefly but gave no other response.
“What are you thinking?” Rashad asked.
“Trying to figure out why I should believe you when at Eli’s Restaurant you quickly agreed to my suggestion that we only have sex. That makes me think not much has changed, that you want to keep me at a distance. We both know the reason you wanted to slow down was because I was getting too close to you.”
He lowered his gaze.
“You can’t even look at me because I’m right,” she said softly.
There were things about his past that very few people knew. They were shocking and tragic, and if she knew about the monster in his past, she wouldn’t feel the same way. Though part of him wanted to share that aspect of his background with her, he worried about the fallout and doubted she could handle his secrets.
He met her gaze. “I understand you have doubts, but I’m not the same person. I’ll be different. You’ll see.”
“I saw you, you know. After you gave me your talk, I saw you walking down the sidewalk in your neighborhood, with your arm around a woman. Blonde, pretty, and you came into your building together. When I called and asked what you were doing—to test you—you said you were out with Alex. You lied to me, because you didn’t want me to know you were with another woman.” Pain shimmered in her eyes.
“Blonde…?” Rashad briefly closed his eyes and groaned internally. “I know who you’re talking about. That was my sister.”
“She was white, Rashad.”
“She’s like a sister. Heather. She spent the night—”
Layla turned away, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Nothing happened because we’re like family. Like Alex. She was visiting from out of town and spent the night at my place because she had an early tour leaving the next morning. My condo was more convenient than staying at Alex’s. You can ask him about her if you don’t believe me.”
“I never heard you talk about her.”
“There are a lot of things I didn’t share with you.”
“No kidding.” She swallowed.
“That’s why you called and broke up with me.”
She looked him in the eyes, hers filled with hurt and sorrow.
He touched her cheek. “Sweetness, I swear, Heather was practically family. She died year before last.”
Layla gasped. “What? Rashad, I’m so sorry.”
He forced himself to go numb so he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He, Heather, and Alex had been as close as siblings, and her death had landed a devastating blow to their little family.
“She was sick for a while, and now she’s in a better place. No more pain,” he said, woodenly. “When you told me we were done, I was shocked. Then you refused to see me, even when I showed up at your apartment.”
“I didn’t want to hear anything you had to say.”
“That was clear.” Rashad took her hand. “Give me another shot. Let’s see where we can take this. I’m all in.”
Layla sighed. “I don’t want to make a hasty decision. Let me think about it.”
“Okay. When do you think I can see you again? Maybe Friday?”
“I’m busy. I’ll call you when I’m free.”
“All right. We’ll do this at your pace.” Rashad didn’t like that answer, but he’d have to be satisfied. He couldn’t push too hard because then he’d push her away.
As he helped her to her feet, her phone beeped. She pulled it from her purse and almost immediately, a smile spread on her face.
“Good news?” Rashad asked.
“Yes. I...” She hesitated.
“If it’s good news, tell me.”
“The text is from my sister. My dad did really well in physical therapy today. The doctor thinks he’ll be able to walk without his cane soon.”
“What happened to your dad?”
She responded to the text and then tucked the phone in the bag over her shoulder. “He had an accident. A guy was texting and not paying attention and side-swiped my dad’s car. Banged him up pretty good. Anyway, he’s been in therapy for three weeks, and there has been a lot of progress. She wanted me to know that he did well today.”
“I asked about your family the other day. Why didn’t you tell me about your dad?”
“Why would I?”
“It’s me, Rashad,” he said, suddenly angry and hurt that he’d been excluded.
He used to love hearing stories about her family, and every so often she’d FaceTime with her parents, which was always like a hilarious episode from a sitcom. He’d assumed that since both her parents were high-powered attorneys, they were staid, serious people. Instead, they were a funny, affectionate couple whose teasing and bantering made clear the decades of love between them. Each FaceTime session—and Rashad had been fortunate enough to be nearby during at least five—had been an experience.
He’d come to feel as if he knew her family, and he and Layla’s mother had even exchanged cookie recipes once. Being that he didn’t have a family of his own, he’d devoured each story Layla shared and enjoyed every conversation he’d had with her parents.
“We don’t have that type of relationship anymore,” Layla said quietly.
Her answer decimated him, and emotion clogged his airway. “We used to.”
“You didn’t want that, remember?” She looked at him with a doleful expression, eyes revealing the weight of the pain he must have caused. Now he understand what it felt like when someone you cared about cut you out of part of their life, and he didn’t like it.
Damn, he wished he could take back that time. Knowing he’d hurt her tormented his conscience.
“I cared about you, and by default I cared about your family and your friends. Anything that matters to you matters to me,” Rashad said. “Will you at least tell him that I’m rooting for him?”
Layla nodded. “Sure.”
They walked to the front of the apartment, and he helped her put on her coat.
Rashad kissed her cheek, his arms wound loosely around her waist. “Keep me posted on your dad.”
“I will.”
“Look at me, Layla.”
She lifted her gaze from his chest.
“I’m not going to screw this up.”
“I guess we’ll see how you do. Good night, Rashad.”
After she left, he went to look out the window, hands stuffed into his pockets. No doubt he’d been selfish before, but losing Layla had taught him a valuable lesson. How much she meant to him. If she gave him another chance, he’d show her that he could be a different man.
The kind of man she deserved.
12
Layla stepped into Avery’s Juke Joint on Peachtree Street and cast her gaze around the crowded space. She’d been to the lively s
pot before, where on weekends a band played funk and blues while guests created a makeshift dance floor in front of the stage. The building used to be a retail store and had been converted into an establishment that served delicious Southern cuisine and strong drinks for an eclectic crowd of professionals.
She felt great after a pampering session at the spa earlier, and she’d misted her face with a rosewater spray Tamika had recently launched. The floral scent was enough to put her in good spirits, but the product had hydrating qualities she’d come to depend on during the skin-drying winter months.
She had a date tonight and having been burned before, sincerely hoped that he looked the same as he did in the photos. She’d matched online with Garrison, who coined himself a world traveler, a good listener, and a great conversationalist. Though she had to question the last part since he’d chosen to meet her here. The loud music wasn’t exactly conducive to conversation and getting to know each other.
Finally she saw him at the bar, a stark white structure that wound in an S-shape along one wall and was crowded with laughing customers who sipped cocktails and in general looked like they were having a great time. Garrison waved to get her attention, and she went over to him.
“You made it,” he said, a wide grin on his face.
They hugged briefly.
He looked almost exactly like his photos. Moderately handsome with dark eyes and skin the color of brown leather. A few gray hairs were sprinkled throughout his low-cut hair, something she hadn’t noticed in the images online.
“I made it.”
They both laughed, and some of her nervousness disappeared.
“I was about to get a drink in case you were late or didn’t show.”
“You thought I might stand you up?”
“Hey, it’s happened before. Online dating isn’t all fun and games.”
“True.” She’d run into a few clods herself, though none had stood her up. They usually ended up being rude, didn’t look like their photos, or were only interested in hooking up. To weed out the players, she’d been clear on her profile that she was searching for a serious relationship, but either these men couldn’t read or they didn’t care.
“This way. The owner is a friend of mine, and I was able to get us a table in the back.”
They bypassed the crowd and went behind a wall that led to a hallway.
“I didn’t realize all this was back here.”
“It’s a pretty big place,” Garrison said.
The back room was quieter and contained five round tables, three already occupied. She and Garrison sat down at a table against the wall. A server came over immediately and took their drink and food orders and then left them alone.
Garrison clasped his hands on the table. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, and you look exactly like your photos.”
Layla laughed. “I was thinking the same thing about you.”
He chuckled, and then they drifted into an easy conversation that she enjoyed, but she continuously thought about Rashad and how they used to talk for hours on end about everything and nothing. She missed those conversations.
When he’d suggested seeing her tonight, she’d been sorely tempted to cancel with Garrison but reminded herself that she was within her rights to date other people. She should ignore the misplaced guilt that ate at her conscience. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, and Rashad was probably doing the same.
Twirling fettuccine on her fork, she wondered, Has he made plans with someone else?
Pain pierced her chest, and she lifted her wine glass to her lips, giving Garrison a faint smile as he laughed for reasons she had no clue about.
She shouldn’t care what Rashad was doing tonight or who he was doing it with. As long as he wasn’t having sex with them, he could do whatever he wanted. Another slice of pain, sharper this time, cut into her chest and belly.
Layla shook her head and refocused on the man before her. She was looking for a husband, and he might be sitting in front of her, so she at least owed him the courtesy of paying attention.
For the rest of the night, the conversation with Garrison flowed easily, but as they neared the end of the meal, Layla accepted that there wasn’t a spark. He was a nice guy, but the excitement she’d hoped for didn’t exist between them.
“You seem to be in deep thought over there,” he said with a mild smile.
“Do I?” Layla cracked the crust on her crème brûlée and spooned the sweet custard into her mouth.
Garrison sat back, a rueful twist to his lips. “Let me guess. You’re thinking that we don’t have much chemistry, am I right?”
Her eyes widened.
He chuckled. “Don’t feel bad, I was actually thinking the same thing.” He frowned as he searched for the right words. “I like you, but maybe we’re better off as friends. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a beautiful woman, but… I don’t feel anything, and I think I know why.”
“Why?”
“Tonight was a trial run for me,” he admitted. “I’ve been divorced for over a year and wanted to see if I was ready to get back into the game, but I’m not sure that I am.”
“I’m sorry.” Layla remembered from his profile that he was divorced, but they hadn’t talked about his marriage or ex-wife the entire meal. She’d assumed the divorce had taken place a long time ago.
“Me too. I’m starting to think that those feelings I thought were gone forever haven’t really gone anywhere at all.”
His words landed like truth bombs. “You shouldn’t jump back into a relationship if you’re not ready. That’s something I should tell myself too.”
“What’s your story?”
“Let’s just say that I ended a relationship a few years ago, and even though I’ve had men in my life since then, nothing quite seems…”
“The same,” he finished for her.
“Yeah.” Her last conversation with Rashad didn’t help. She was more confused than ever about her feelings for him. She’d thought she was over him, but having him offer her a real relationship had caused excitement and longing she’d thought had long been displaced.
“Friends?” Garrison said.
“I would like that.”
He leaned forward on folded arms. “How about we finish up here and head out to the main room and do some dancing. I’m not the best dancer in the world, but I promise you’ll have fun.”
“I would like that,” Layla said.
They finished their desserts, and Garrison paid for the meals. Layla looped her arm through his as they made their way out of the small dining room and into the main part of the restaurant. They were winding their way past the bar when Rashad stepped in front of them, and Layla pulled up short.
Her mouth fell open in shock. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” With a hard glint in his eyes, his gaze landed on their locked arms.
Layla guiltily released Garrison. “I had dinner with a friend,” she explained.
“A friend?” Rashad arched a doubtful eyebrow. “Your friend is the reason you couldn’t see me tonight?”
“Maybe now isn’t a good time to discuss this.”
“No, let’s talk about this right here, right now. No better time than the present.”
“Hey, buddy, calm down,” Garrison said.
“I’m not your buddy,” Rashad said, getting louder and jabbing a finger at Garrison.
Layla rested a hand on Rashad’s arm. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“He’s not my boyfriend. I told you, he’s a friend. I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes.”
Rashad glowered at Garrison before responding. “You have five minutes,” he said to Layla. He stalked away into the crowd toward the door, and Layla turned to face Garrison.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay with that guy?” he asked, deep concern etched in his eyes and voice.
“He’s harmless. Th
anks for dinner, but, as you can see, I need to talk to him.”
Suddenly, understanding dawned in his eyes. “Is he the one you were talking about? The one you still have feelings for?”
“He’s the one,” Layla said with a nod.
“Good luck to you.” The compassion in his voice warmed her heart.
“Good luck to you, too, and please, keep in touch.”
“I will. Since you’re leaving, I’m going to hang out at the bar and maybe see if I can entice some other woman to dance with me.”
Layla gave him a quick goodbye hug. “Take care.”
13
Layla found Rashad pacing the sidewalk, an intimidating image in all black—black turtleneck, black jeans, and a black leather jacket, with a thick gold chain around his neck.
He stopped when he saw her. “What was that about? And don’t tell me you weren’t on a date, because I know a date when I see one. When I walked up, you were practically hanging all over him.”
“I was not! For your information, we decided we were better off as friends. Yes, I was on a date, but—”
“So that’s it? You get to screw around while I’m at home doing nothing?”
“Didn’t look like you were sitting at home to me. Did you have a date?”
“No, I didn’t have a date. I needed to get out of the house because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and by the way, we never said it was okay to see other people.”
“That’s not true. I made it very clear that I still want to find the kind of man I can have a future with. Maybe you didn’t hear that, but I’m still looking. Having sex with you doesn’t mean I stopped looking.”
“You’re still looking?” He stared at her, aghast.
“I told you that from the beginning. Why are you acting as if this is new information?”
“Because I can’t believe you were serious. So I’m a filler?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what I am, right? Until you find the man of your dreams, you’re passing the time with Rashad, riding his dick until the perfect dick comes along.”
“You’re making me sound like a horrible person.”
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