“Actually, we’re supposed to be experiencing and reporting on the experience.” I took a sip of water. “And anyway, how do you know I wasn’t interviewing him for my article?”
He scoffed. “The way he kept checking you out, there was no way he was just interested in giving an interview.”
“Funny, coming from the same man who was grinning in his teammate’s face.”
He sipped his water. “I was celebrating with my team. But I spent the entire game taking notice of my surroundings, and I saw the way Mark was looking at you.”
“I’m surprised you noticed, given the fact that every time I happened to glance at you, you were staring in my face.” I pursed my lips to accentuate my point.
His eyes darted around even though his face was stone still. “I wasn’t. Not like that anyway.”
I let out a short, dry laugh. “Yes, you were.”
“I admit, I might have glanced at you a few times. But it’s not what you think.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Well, then what was it?”
Licking his lips, he silently assessed my face. The longer he looked at me without saying anything, the more of a pull I felt toward him. Staring into my eyes, his voice sounded huskier. “I was staring because you looked different. That’s all.”
I didn’t expect that answer.
My brows furrowed. “Different? How?”
“You were smiling and having a good time. You weren’t being serious. You just looked happy. And it was beau…” Ripping his eyes away from me, he continued, “It was different. We have work to do.” Pushing off the edge of the bar, he walked away without another word. He didn’t even glance back at me.
“Was that Carlos? In the flesh?” Meghan asked moments later as I glared darts into the back of Carlos’s head.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I turned to my best friend. “Mm hmm.” I rolled my eyes. “I seriously don’t think I can work with him.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I could see the sparks flying between you two from across the room.”
“Those weren’t sparks.”
Smirking, she gave me a look. “Okay, Kiki.”
“Those weren’t sparks!” I argued.
“What was it then?” She put her hand on her hip.
I bit my lip. “Um… the glowing embers from the fiery pits of hell from which he arrived.”
Meghan and I dissolved in a fit of giggles. We laughed so hard that I was able to push down the sparks, the magic, and all the other feelings that Carlos brought out of me.
Chapter Nine
“As a writer, there’s nothing more complex as the feeling you get when you’re told by someone you respect how much they love what you’ve written, and then you look at all the red marks and corrections they’ve made,” I complained with pride as I walked into the kitchen. “It smells so good in here.”
“Thanks.” Meghan carried breadsticks in one hand and dipping sauce in the other. “Will you grab the lemonade pitcher from the refrigerator?”
“Yeah.” I looked around in astonishment as I washed my hands. “You said you were cooking dinner and I’m not going to lie, I expected pizza rolls.”
She laughed and gestured to the lasagna, salad, and breadsticks. “I wanted to impress Derrick, so I took a stroll down my grandma’s recipe book.”
Setting the pitcher on the table, I swung around to the calendar on the wall. “Today is Wednesday, right?”
“Yeah…”
“I thought you said Derrick was coming over on Thursday night.”
“He is. But I decided I needed to do a practice run on grandma’s recipe. Lasagna is his favorite food, so I wanted to make sure I did a good job.”
Sitting across from her, I studied my best friend’s face. Without her wigs and makeup, she looked younger than her twenty-five years. But more than that, she looked nervous.
“What’s going on? I thought things with Derrick were casual.”
“They are. But I think I want to be with him.”
I giggled. “Thank you for dinner.” I put my head down and blessed our food. “Amen.”
“Amen!” She scooped some lasagna onto her plate. “Now what’s so funny?”
“I thought you said you wanted to be with David.”
“I thought I did, too. But when we had sex, I changed my mind.”
My eyebrows flew up. “You had sex with David?! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were going through a lot last week. Photography class, Re-Mix interview, several run-ins with Carlos… you had a lot on your plate. And then I started talking to Kevin and Derrick more, so I forgot all about it.”
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head slowly. “I was so caught up in my mess that I wasn’t checking in enough. Please, tell me everything. Start at the beginning. What happened with David?”
“His dick was small. I liked him, but his dick was so small that I couldn’t feel anything when he put it in.”
My mouth fell open. “Nothing?”
“Not a thing.”
“Damn.” I shook my head. “A huge dick isn’t even a requirement. But if it’s small, you have to know how to work it and you have to know what you can and can’t do. But if he was so small that you couldn’t feel him inside you, that’s…yikes.”
“I know. And I didn’t expect that at all. He was the one that was kind of tall, bigger body build, and big feet so I expected him to at least be of average length and width.”
“It’s crazy how you just never know what you’re going to get. It’s like those chocolates that don’t have the map to tell you what the filling is. You’re hoping it’s filled with caramel, but you bite down and it’s that weird strawberry nougat filling,” I chuckled. “Big feet, a big body, big hands, none of that necessarily means anything anymore. It’s all a crapshoot.”
“Unless you see a dick print,” Meghan said in a sing-song voice.
I took a bite of my food and ignored her comment. “So, after you two had sex, you didn’t see him again?”
“Oh, don’t think we aren’t going to circle back around to that,” she giggled. “But no, I didn’t see him again. I didn’t call him, and he didn’t call me. I think he could tell by my body’s reaction that I wasn’t into the sex. So…” She chewed a mouthful of lasagna. “On to the next one.”
“Here, here.” I lifted my glass of lemonade. “On to the next one.”
She raised her glass. “Here, here.”
“Now I need to know about Kevin and Derrick.” I chewed the small bite of breadstick that was in my mouth. “And this is delicious by the way.”
She grinned and then launched into a story about Kevin and then Derrick.
After dinner, I finished making the corrections to my article and fell asleep at four o’clock in the morning. When I woke up, I had several missed calls and a text from Alex.
“Alexandria Bishara,” I greeted my sister when she answered the phone.
“What are you doing?” she responded. “Where have you been?”
I propped myself up against my pillows. “I’m in bed. What’s going on?”
“I have a date tonight!”
“Congratulations! With who?”
“Jay. He’s the sexy history tutor I had over the summer. I didn’t think he was interested, and I hadn’t really seen him since summer classes ended. But I ran into him at the library today, and he asked me out.”
“That’s awesome, Alex!” Pushing the covers off my body, I swung my legs off the side of the bed.
“So, the reason I called is to ask you if I could borrow your yellow dress.”
I stopped. “Which one?” My tone was suspicious because I knew she couldn’t have meant my favorite yellow dress—the marigold yellow stunner.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Then why would you even ask?” I questioned, my voice riddled in amusement.
“I swear I won’t mess it up. Please Kiki. Please.”
“You spilled w
ine on the last thing you borrowed of mine.”
“In my defense, I thought it was Meghan’s.”
Shaking my head, I laughed as I walked over to my closet. “Where are you going?”
“We’re going to the history museum in D.C. for dinner and a special exhibit, and then we’re going to Kobo Lounge for drinks and dancing. I don’t have time to go shopping, and I don’t know anything that would be as perfect as that dress. I have an exam tomorrow morning so I don’t have time to go shopping and even if I did, I’m not going to find anything as perfect as that dress.”
“When is this event?”
“Friday!”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes! We’re leaving after my exam.”
I sighed. “Fine.”
She screamed.
I moved the phone from my ear and when I put it back, I yelled, “Calm down, calm down… If you borrow this dress—and the key word is borrow—you must bring it back cleaned and steamed by Monday.”
“I will, I promise! I promise!”
“I have to go to this singles event tonight and Meghan has a hot date—”
“With David?”
I smiled, remembering Meghan’s recount of her unimpressive night with David. “No, not with David.”
“Oh! Then with who?”
I laughed. “You’ll have to ask her. But in the meantime, if you’re picking the dress up tonight, you’ll have to do it before I leave at six o’clock.”
“I’ll be there on time. I’ll bring it back in even better condition. I’ll have it dry cleaned and steamed at the expensive place you like. Nothing will happen to it.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, and have you talked to Mom?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“Well, she’s looking for you. Call her back.”
We said our goodbyes, and I trudged my way to the bathroom to get my day started. After showering, cleaning, and running errands, I studied the photography presentation Luca Romano posted online. I scoured my brain and the internet trying to come up with a great location for the self-portrait I was supposed to turn in by Sunday night. I knew I was overthinking the assignment, but it was the first one that didn’t involve our partners and I wanted to stand out. I got so caught up in planning and preparing, I lost track of time.
“Hey, I’m home!” Meghan yelled when she walked in our apartment.
My eyes flew to the clock beside my bed. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, scrambling to my feet. “Hey, Meghan!”
It was later than I thought, and I needed to be out of the house by six o’clock.
After a shower, I dressed in a pair of black, satin pants with a matching fitted jacket. With no shirt underneath and my push-up bra working its magic, I looked like the quintessential idea of a sexy professional. Posing in the mirror, I didn’t have time to wrestle with my thick mass of tightly coiled hair, so I pinned one side up and let the other side be wild and free. Slipping into a pair of metallic spiked heels, I grabbed a metallic clutch to complete the look.
“Come in!” I called out when I heard the knock at my door.
“You look beautiful, Kiki,” Alex commented as soon as she walked in my room. “You are an angel who the world has been blessed to bask in your glow. You are fierce. You are Beyoncé. And I’m not just saying that because you are the best and most generous sister in the world.”
I laughed as I walked to my closet and pulled out the dress. “I already said you can borrow it. No need to lay it on that thick.”
She giggled as she hugged me. “You do look good though!”
“Thank you.” I handed her the dress and looked down at my feet. “I haven’t worn these shoes in so long.”
“New Year’s Eve,” she confirmed with a nod as we exited the room.
“Meghan!” Alex yelled.
“Alexandria!” Meghan yelled back.
“Who is your hot date with? Akila wouldn’t tell me,” Alex pouted as we found her in the kitchen.
“You two can catch up. I have to head out.” I looked at Meghan. “I will text you when I’m on the way home, but if things are going well, I don’t expect a text back.”
“Ow!” Alex exclaimed, gyrating her hips.
Laughing, I waved. “Meghan, have fun! Alex, good luck on your exam tomorrow. Love you both!”
I left the house and found my way to Koi twenty minutes later. I didn’t see many cars in the parking lot or many people milling around the entrance. I was a little worried that the night would be a bust, but I tried not to think too long and hard about it.
I hope it’s a good time. But good or bad, I’m going to write about my experience for Re-Mix Magazine, and I’m going to get paid to do that.
Entering the elevator to the roof, I caught a glimpse of my reflection.
First thing Saturday morning, my first story in Re-Mix will be published, I thought excitedly as I rode up.
“Wow,” I breathed aloud as the doors opened.
The rooftop had people everywhere—some on the dancefloor, some at tables, some at the bar. The music was an up-tempo R&B song that had a great beat. As I made my way to the bar, my eyes swept the room, and I plastered a smile on my face.
“Well, hello,” the bartender greeted me as I slipped onto a newly empty stool. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi.” I smiled at the good-looking man in front of me. “I’ll take a bottle of water and a Koi Kamikaze.”
He winked at me. “Coming right up.”
“Thank you.” Pulling out my cell phone, I checked the time.
“Did you want to put my number in there?”
Slipping my phone back into my bag, I tilted my head to the side. “Depends on how my drink tastes.”
He chuckled. “Aw man, the pressure is on now.”
I nodded. “It is.”
“I’m Tim, by the way.”
“I’m thirsty.” Unable to keep a straight face, I burst out laughing at my own joke. “No, I’m Akila.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re funny. I’ll be right back.”
Four minutes later, I had an ice-cold bottle of water and a Koi Kamikaze in either hand. Because the bar was busy, Tim didn’t have much time for us to talk. We flirted when he’d come by and I wasn’t having a conversation with someone, but we never exchanged personal information besides our names.
I’d been there for at least thirty minutes and although I didn’t move from my perch at the bar, I was having a good time. The music was the perfect mix for the crowd and the vibe was riddled with pre-weekend excitement. I’d been approached by a few men who held halfway decent conversations but none of any substance. Scanning the room, I slowly sipped the last of my alcoholic beverage.
I froze.
I knew he’d be there, but seeing Carlos Richmond always managed to catch me off guard. I could tell from my vantage point that he was flirting with the cute girl with the braided hair. She was smiling up at him, tossing her hair, and touching him frequently. For about ten minutes, I watched them. I was unable to move, unable to look away. I didn’t care what he did or with whom, yet I found myself watching their interaction as if it were a stage play.
My lips pursed as she laughed at something he said. He said something else and she laughed so hard, she had to hold on to him to keep her upright. I rolled my eyes.
He’s not that funny.
She had to be reacting to the fact that he looked good, I reasoned. He was an ass sometimes, but he always looked good. I couldn’t deny that fact. Every single time I’d seen him, he had a different look and all of them were on point.
My eyes swept up and down his body taking in his fashion choices. Wearing brown shoes and belt with dark denim jeans and a white shirt, his outfit was unremarkable.
Yet on him, all I wanted to do was remark.
Surprising myself with that thought, I looked away.
Lusting after a man was unlike me. Lusting after a man I didn’t even like was unheard of.
“Hi, I’m Brad. Would you like to dance?” a man asked as he slipped onto the barstool next to me, stealing my attention away from Carlos.
Recognizing the voice, I could feel my blood boiling already. “No.” Turning to face the man I’d met the last time I’d visited Koi, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Baby, let me take you out on the dance floor and change your mind. You are way too beautiful to be sitting here alone.” His eyes roamed over me. “And your body… mmm girl.”
Glaring at him with a mixture of disbelief and repulsion, I was at a loss for words.
He laughed to himself. “You don’t have to be shy around me.” His eyes were fixated on my cleavage. “Let me get your number.”
“Please leave me alone. Like I told you the last time you hit on me, I’m not interested.”
Licking his lips, he studied my face. “I would remember a beautiful face like yours. You may have me confused with another guy.”
“No, I remember exactly who you are.” My lip curled in disgust. “Walk away.”
He leaned closer and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Don’t play hard to get. We both know you are going home with me tonight.”
“I’m not. But before I walk away, where do you get these weak ass lines?”
“There’s nothing weak about me.” He sat back and looked at me again. “And if you play your cards right, you’ll get a chance to see that.”
My eyebrows flew up. “Are you kidding? This isn’t for real.”
“I don’t kid about handling my business. And this is very real. Every inch of me is real.”
I looked around in faux confusion. “This isn’t for real. You cannot be for real. Who taught you how to speak to women? I’m seriously curious. You listen to The Lost Boys, don’t you?”
“So, what if I do?” He reached over and placed his hand on mine. Snatching my hand from his, I snapped, “Don’t fucking touch me!”
The look on his face shifted as if he just realized that I wasn’t falling for his charm. “Doesn’t matter anyway, you’re not even that cute.”
I stood. “It’s so sad that upon rejection your first instinct is to insult my looks.” I let out a dry, mocking laugh. “Two things: you approached me, and I don’t give a fuck what you think.”
Sweatpants Season Page 12