Had I imagined it?
Quinn and Sydnee met me at the steps that led up to the stage, practically bubbling with excitement.
“That was hot,” Quinn gushed, and beside her, Sydnee nodded.
“When you first started, I was like… “oh dear, this… this isn’t…” but then you told him to make sure he gets your good side if he’s taking pictures, and I then I was like “Oh, okay, so she’s just gonna… okay, I can dig it”,” Sydnee explained, making me burst into giggles.
“Could y’all stop it,” I asked, laughing again when they really did. “No, fools, I’m playing. Keep going. Tell me what else.”
“Excuse me ladies.” We looked up as Roman approached, with an envelope in his hand. He held it in my direction, and I looked at him with a curious frown. “Drink tickets,” he explained. “Anybody who does the open mic gets two free drinks now.”
Immediately, I accepted the envelope. “Oooh, unexpected perks!”
Laughing, Roman tossed his hand up in a wave. “Y’all have a good time.”
“Oh we plan to.” I turned back to Quinn and Syd with a smile on my face. “I’ll meet y’all back at the table. I am about to go cash in one of these drink tickets.”
I felt good as I weaved my way through the crowd. After a taxing day – hell, a taxing week – a night like tonight felt more necessary than I’d expected. The bar was crowded, but that was okay. I tossed up a little wave at the bartender as I approached, getting her attention, and when she nodded, I squeezed my way into a tiny open space at the bar.
“Can I get a cranberry and vodka?” I yelled, over the noise of the crowd. “Lakewood cranberry if you have it. And Rain vodka.”
“Predictable.”
I narrowed my eyes, turning away from the bartender as she nodded to confirm my order. I hadn’t realized it, but I was standing right next to Eddie. “Predictable?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Natural hair, yoga, always talking about “vibes”. Of course you want organic drinks. You’re probably vegan too, huh?”
“Why does that sound like an insult?”
He winked at me. “Because it is.”
“And here I was, thinking you were being nice to me for a change,” I said, crossing my arms as I leaned onto the scuffed hardwood bar top. Just like in the studio that day, Eddie’s eyes flickered down to my breasts, lingering before they moved back to my face.
“Nobody asked you to think, did they?”
“That’s so rude,” I told him, turning to face him fully after I had my drink. “Why are you so rude to me?”
He shrugged. “You don’t have to take it, you know? You could walk away. Never speak to me again – that would really drive your point home. Stay focused, you know? Don’t get sidetracked.”
Instead of making me walk away, his words brought a smirk to my face. “So you were listening pretty hard while I was up there, huh?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said, stepping close enough to eliminate the tiny bit of personal space between us. I raked my teeth over my bottom lip as I tipped my head back to look him in the face, and mentally fist-bumped myself for the tiny dress I’d put on tonight. “I saw you staring at me when I was up there. Like you were… in awe.”
“Don’t flatter yourself Asteroid.”
“Astrid. And stop deflecting.” A big grin spread over my face as he tried to step backward, only to realize he was against the wall, with nowhere to go. “Deny it all you want, but it doesn’t let the fact that you want me any less true, Edison.”
“It’s Eddie.”
I smirked. “Right. I’ll see you around.”
When I walked away from him, it was with a little extra switch in my steps, and I could feel his eyes on me the whole way. As much as I wanted to just keep walking, and not look back… I couldn’t help it. I turned in time to see him in the same spot, his back to the bar, looking right at me.
I didn’t expect it to take my breath away.
I forced myself not to turn back as quickly as I wanted to, not wanting him to know that he’d gotten under my skin a little with the heat from his stare. I made my way back to my friends, and then tried my best not to look in that direction again.
Inadvertently, he’d already given me enough.
He wouldn’t admit it for whatever reason, but his gaze lingered too often, he protested my presence too much. Eddie wanted me… I just wondered what was holding him back.
three.
eddie.
“You should come back to yoga.”
There it was, that voice that was way too sensual to come out of a twenty-something girl. I straightened from the bent position I’d been in, from stopping mid-run to massage my aching knees, to see Astrid standing a few feet away.
“Why the hell can’t I seem to get away from you?” I asked, glancing around to take in my surroundings. It was residential around here, and from where she was standing… I wondered if my chosen stop was in front of the building where she lived.
She smiled, setting off a rush of blood to my groin. “Kismet is my best guess.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, right.”
I took a deep breath, tearing my eyes away from her. She was dressed, barely, in a mint green sports bra and matching shorts, showing off thighs that were the best kind of balance between juicy and toned. I didn’t need this shit today – not when I was already having enough trouble getting her off my mind, even though I hadn’t seen her since two days ago, at Urban Grind.
Wearing that itty-bitty dress up on stage, implying filthy shit with her words, filling my head with even filthier shit I would do to her. It didn’t even make sense really. From the effect she had on me, you’d think I was some impotent creep who’d never seen a pretty girl before.
But… that was the thing.
She wasn’t just pretty – she was fucking beautiful, so much that it pissed me off. Velvety copper skin, big brown eyes, and full, luscious lips that were usually painted a bold color. Big, bright smile that lit up the room. Big, bountiful kinky hair that commanded damn near as much presence as she did.
Effortlessly. Or at least, that was the impression that I got. She wasn’t “putting on”, she wasn’t trying too hard, she wasn’t living her life or looking the way she did for the chance to use a damn hashtag. This was just… her. With a cool, sexy confidence that was hypnotic as hell, but wrapped in a package that just… wasn’t how I typically got down.
Clean lines, fresh haircuts, edges that laid flat. Cuff links, pencil skirts, six inch heels with red bottoms. Sleek. Polished. Black, bougie, and arrogant was my preferred aesthetic, and if nothing else, it would always catch my eye.
Astrid was none of that.
“It would help with your knees,” Astrid said, from much closer than she’d been a second ago, and I blinked. I’d been so absorbed in my thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed her approaching.
It wasn’t even six in the morning yet, but those big brown eyes of hers were bright, and alert. She’d worked her thick natural hair into two braids that curved around her head, forming a shape that favored a crown, enhancing her already regal features. She even smelled good, and I had to force myself not to take a deep inhale of her jasmine-and-vanilla-and-cocoa-butter aroma.
“Who said I needed help with my knees?” I snipped, stepping back from her. I cringed as I straightened, and she smirked.
“Your body language. Yoga is an excellent supplement to running. Give you some balance, work muscles that running and weightlifting cannot. Help with flexibility. Help clear your mind.”
“What makes you think I need to clear my mind?”
“Everyone needs to clear their mind sometimes.”
“Yeah, well… if you don’t mind I need to get going.”
“No one is stopping you. You’re the one asking questions.” I stopped to look at her, and she lifted an eyebrow before her lips spread into a smile. “You really should come back to yoga.”
&
nbsp; “I’ll pass.”
At least, that’s what I told her as I headed off, but the snap-crackle-popping in my knees told a different tale. I was getting older, and so was the body I took such pride in – the reason I’d even indulged Kim in coming to yoga in the first place.
After just two sessions, I felt looser, more flexible, better than I had in years. But then I’d walked into class and saw… her.
Shit.
Avoiding things I wanted to do because of a person? That wasn’t even really in my nature, and yet… here I was. If I were on the outside of this looking in, the answer would be clear: Don’t be bothered. Mind your business and keep it moving.
Easier said than done.
&
More often than not, I lost myself in my work.
Even when the shop was loud and rowdy around me, even in the middle of the day, my focus was intense – just me, the client, the skin, and the ink.
Tattooing hurt – there was no getting around it, because that was just the way our bodies were made. Any piercing of the skin sent an “ouch” message to the brain – the variation from person to person came down to how much it hurt, and how they reacted to it.
I felt like I was well on my way to mastering the perfect touch. Just enough depth on my needles that I didn’t have to go over the same place again and again for a deep, vibrant color payoff, but light enough that usually even the most dramatic of canvasses relaxed their ass in my chair. The woman I was currently working on was a testament to that.
She was completely unperturbed as I worked through the intense shading for the hibiscus flower that was now covering the – too common – ugly mistake of some asshole’s name tattooed on the side of her wrist. I’d watched grown ass men squeal and shed tears over tats in the very same spot – right over the bone could get intense – but she was laughing and chilling, taking it in stride.
Or, she could have just been keeping in mind what she’d said to me when she sat down, relieved that it was finally time for the appointment she’d made months in advance – “Let’s do it. I can’t wait to not have to look at this cheating motherfucker’s name every day.”
I couldn’t even imagine the type of rage I’d feel over some shit like that, and way too many of my appointments were with women – and occasionally men with the exact same problem. I was thirty-six years old, and had been tattooing for nearly twenty of those years. The things I’d seen around getting somebody’s name permanently placed on your body had led me to decide:
One – If you were fucking them, I wasn’t tattooing their name on you. Period. For the first few years, while I was learning, I was pretty indiscriminate about what I did, but now that I had the luxury to be choosy, I was absolutely that. If you wanted your kids, your mama, your granddaddy ‘nem, cool. But Ray-Ray who you just put out last week? I wasn’t the artist to tattoo his name on your inner thigh.
No. Thanks.
Two – I wasn’t ever tattooing anybody’s name on me, the fuck?
Three – I didn’t even want to feel deeply enough about anybody that the shit was even a passing thought. Nah. Couldn’t have somebody else’s mark on my personal canvas like that.
But I would certainly help other people correct the mistake.
Her “error adjustment” took me well into the afternoon because of the size, color detail, and intricacy of her new ink. My back was tight and aching by the time I took her to the big mirror to see it, but it was well worth it when she burst into tears at the sight of it.
It was damn near three o’clock by the time I got her wrapped up and out of the shop. She was my only appointment for the day, which would give me room to take some walk-ins later if I wanted to, which… wasn’t likely.
I was ready to call my day done.
Once I had my station cleaned up, I wandered over to the big front window of the shop, which faced the street. With the way it was tinted, people passing by couldn’t see in, they only saw whatever was in the window display for that week. From the inside though, I had a clear view out to the street, and as soon I approached the window, something caught my eye.
“You know, a picture would last longer,” Priya teased as she passed with a tub of little bottles of custom-mixed ink. From our conversation when she first came in, I knew she had an appointment for a large, intricate piece, coming up soon.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, eyebrows raised as I watched her all the way to her station and back.
When she was in front of me again, with empty hands, she crossed her arms. “I’m talking about that,” she gestured out the window with her head, keeping a smirk on her face. “You staring at her.”
“Who?”
Priya sucked her teeth. “The pretty girl with all that hair,” she practically sang, turning to face the window. “I’ve seen her in here, with your friend Sydnee. And I’ve seen her around the neighborhood too. And every time I see you and her at the same time, you are always staring. So… who is she?”
Pretty girl with all that hair was a bland, but accurate way to describe Astrid. She’d ditched the braids from this morning, and was wearing her hair in two huge puffs on either side of her head. The off-shoulder style of the orange dress she wore left her smooth, copper skin on clear display. It was like she knew I had a thing for collarbones, knew that my mind would go to kissing her there.
It pissed me off that she had the nerve to be that damn fine, and it pissed me off that I wanted her because she had the nerve to be that damn fine. She’d done this shit on purpose – somehow, I could tell.
“A pain in my ass,” I finally answered Priya’s question, and forced my gaze away from the window. The yoga studio was only another block down, so while I knew it wasn’t really reasonable to assume that she’d purposely stopped to talk to somebody in front of my window – across the street, but still – I was annoyed anyway.
Which was frustrating in itself. Even if it was just in my private thoughts, I felt like her simple presence was making me whiny, and I didn’t like that shit.
“Oh no.” Priya turned to me, her expression concerned. “What happened? What did she do?”
I sighed.
Damn if I have an answer for that.
I couldn’t articulate, not even to myself, exactly what the issue was. All I knew was that the magnetic pull she had over me was unsettling. Even with all my talk of “vibes”, I wasn’t into all that homeopathic, all-natural, organic, Namaste shit she seemed to be about. I laughed about stuff like. And – she was young. I wasn’t sure exactly what her age was, but she’d gone to school with Sydnee, who’d just turned twenty-seven. People under thirty got on my nerves, as a general rule with few exceptions.
Not to mention – I didn’t like the way she looked at me. As if she was… I don’t know, looking right through me or something. Or something.
I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like her.
But for whatever reason, I wanted her, really damned bad.
“I don’t feel like getting into it,” was the answer I gave Priya, but really, I knew the shit wouldn’t make any sense outside of my head.
“Mmhmm,” Priya nodded, giving me a sly look like she didn’t believe me, but I knew she didn’t have time to press the issue.
I shook my head. “I’m going to grab something to eat. I’ll be back later. Y’all got it?”
“Don’t we always, boss man?” she asked, giving me a little wave like she was ushering me out. “You’re just going down to Pot Liquor anyway. What do you think is going to happen?”
“Okay, okay,” I nodded, checking my pockets for my cell phone, keys, and wallet. When I’d confirmed that I had everything I tossed up a salute and headed out – right down to Pot Liquor, as Priya had predicted. Their modern soul food menu was extensive enough that they had something for pretty much any mood I was in, and after two run-ins with Astrid – who was gone when I stepped outside – in the same day, I needed comfort food.
First thing I saw when I walked in?
Charlie’s fine ass.
When she came back to town two years ago, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was still in love with her ex, that ass would have been mine, without question. Pretty face, thick thighs, and a macaroni recipe that was good enough to bring a tear to my eyes.
It really was too bad.
I smiled when I spotted her though, and when she looked up, she smiled back, from the other side of the service counter. But then I took in the rest of my surroundings, realizing that Charlie had been talking to somebody at the counter. When “somebody” turned around, presumably to see who’d put that smile on Charlie’s face, my grin melted away.
Why the hell couldn’t I get away from this woman?
“We meet again,” she mused. “Like I said earlier – kismet.”
I bit my tongue as “kiss my ass” popped in my head. I had a deserved reputation of having a little bit of a reckless mouth, but I had to remind myself – she hadn’t done shit to me. So as much I wanted to figure out just how rude I had to be for her to get sick of it and not bother me anymore, the – small – sense of decency I had made me check myself.
“Whatever,” was the response I opted for instead, not making eye contact with her. “Are you in line to order?”
She smirked at my attempt to get her out of the way. “I’ve already ordered, actually.” She took a step away, motioning at Charlie. “She’s all yours. Charlie, just shoot me an email, and you and I can talk later about the changes you want for the website. I’ve got time this week.”
“Thank you Astrid,” Charlie told her. “Your vegan greens and sweet potatoes will be right out.”
My face screwed up at the mention. “When did you start offering that?” I asked, stepping up to the counter.
Charlie shrugged. “Maybe a year ago? Astrid asked, and then a couple of other people have asked over the years as well. It was easy to implement. Turnip green, kale, and collard mix, no pork added. Sweet potatoes with coconut oil instead of butter. Simple.”
“And delicious,” Astrid added, before she went to sit down, and I couldn’t help the way my eye twitched.
Something Like Love (Serendipitous Love Book 6) Page 4