Sweatpants Season

by Danielle Allen

  Applauding, Luca pushed himself from the desk and took his place in the center of the room. “You all did a fantastic job.” He clapped again. “When you’re presenting your work, you want to work on your storytelling and your delivery. The work should speak for itself, and you should only say enough to enhance the story your photography is telling. This brings us to your final assignment, which was to make a statement with a series of shots. You needed to tell a story. There needed to be cohesiveness. And I only required a one-page paper for you to tell me what statement you were trying to make and why it’s important to you. Your statement should be bold, and the story should be powerful. I should be able to get the same statement from your photographs as I get from your paper.”

  I took notes and I heard what Luca was saying, but I could feel Carlos staring at me. My skin heated under his gaze and I was distracted.

  “…and this is where your partner comes into play. On Saturday, your photos will be showcased at a special showcase at Rich Gallery. I will enlarge them, but keep them pure—no retouching. Before the gallery opens to the public at seven o’clock, we will meet as a class at six o’clock and you will be given the last part of your assignment. You will be paired with your partner for this final part. Please be sure to invite your friends and family so they can see your debut.”

  Someone raised their hand. “Mr. Romano, do we need to dress up?”

  “You need to dress in the way that best encompasses who you are. If that’s jeans so be it. If it is a gown, go for it. This is about visual storytelling, and every day you are telling a story about yourself with your wardrobe. So, just be yourself. Any other questions?”

  The room was quiet but bristling with excitement. It was apparent that Luca could feel it too as he grinned at us. “Okay, class is dismissed! I will see you on Saturday. Enjoy the rest of this Monday night.”

  I gathered my belongings and snuck a glance at Carlos. When I saw his eyes boring into me, my breathing hitched. “Have a good night.” I turned to walk away, and he was at my side before I could take a step.

  “I’m walking you to your car,” he told me.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know.”

  Without another word, we walked side-by-side to my car.

  “Okay, thank you,” I mumbled as I pulled out my keys.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  “It is what it is.”

  Stepping into my personal space, he looked down at me. “I was wrong.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I made myself taller as I met his gaze. “Yes, you were.”

  “When I confronted Bryant, he denied it at first and then he told me what he did.” Carlos’s handsome face hardened. “He told me how he thought it was you and then… He told me he knew what he was doing.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “So, he confirmed everything I told you?”

  He nodded, only glancing down momentarily to decline a phone call that was coming in. “I’m sorry for that. I’ve known that man for eight years—since we were eighteen. And I’ve known you…”

  “You’ve only known me for a month.”

  “If I told you that your best friend did some shit like that, would you believe me?” His phone rang again, but he ignored it.

  “That’s the thing… my best friend doesn’t have a history of doing fucked up shit.” My voice became harsher. “Yours does. So, it wasn’t a huge leap. If my best friend was a trash human being and you told me she did something that was garbage, I wouldn’t have dismissed what you said. I understand wanting to verify because that’s your boy, but I wouldn’t have dismissed what you said.”

  “I didn’t think he would do something like that.”

  “That’s not even the point.” I shook my head. “You made your choice. What mattered to you was protected, and that’s what’s important, right?”

  He closed the gap between us, cupping my face in his hands. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  My eyes pricked with tears. Damn.

  He searched my face. “I’m sorry he disrespected you and your sister. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. But more than anything, I’m sorry that I made you feel like you and your feelings don’t matter.”

  His phone rang again.

  Irritably, he yanked his phone out of his pocket to decline the call.

  It was Bryant.

  He gave me a look as he declined the call. All the anger, hurt, and confusion flooded my system, and I needed to get out of there.

  “I have to go,” I breathed, scared my voice would break even further.

  “Will you accept my apology?”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  He pulled me flush against him and even though I didn’t want to, I folded into him as if that was the only place I wanted to be. I buried my face in his chest so he couldn’t see my watery eyes. I squeezed him just as tight as he squeezed me.

  “I really am sorry. I won’t let that happen again. I swear to God,” he murmured against my hair.

  It had been a long week, and I didn’t want to admit that I’d missed him. But in his arms, that was all I could think. I inhaled the sandalwood and vanilla scent and tried to commit it to memory. Every ridge of his hard body, I wanted to memorize. His warmth, I wanted to bottle up for a cold night. And the sound of his voice, I wanted to play on a loop in my ears.

  He pulled back fractionally. “Akila?”

  Glassy eyed, I looked up at him.

  “I miss you,” he admitted.

  I licked my lips. I wanted to say it back, but I was afraid.

  “Do you miss me?”

  I nodded.

  Leaning down, his lips brushed mine gently. The energy between us was so powerful that I didn’t even feel like I was in control of myself anymore. I let out a light moan as I parted my lips and allowed his tongue to meet mine. The passion from that kiss made a beeline to the apex of my thighs. His kiss caused me to shiver.

  His phone rang again.

  Bryant.

  I pulled away. “I can’t do this. You and I wouldn’t work. I have to go.”

  “Can I see you later?”

  “I can’t be around you.”

  “Can we talk later?”

  I had to look away from him. “I don’t think so.”

  “Can we talk period?”

  I didn’t respond, but I still couldn’t look at him.

  “Akila, will you at least unblock me?”

  His phone rang again.

  Untangling myself from his arms, I opened my car door. “I’m sure that’s Bryant again. Have a goodnight.”

  I, at least, made it off campus before the tears started streaming down my cheeks.

  Chapter Nineteen

  My first week at Re-Mix wasn’t the fun-loving, free-spirited walk in the park that I thought it was going to be. I had to work my ass off. I was used to working hard, but I wasn’t used to waking up at nine o’clock in the morning and being in one spot all day. There was so much to do regarding training and orientation. While I was blessed to have a full-time job, I missed the easy-going schedule of my unstructured freelance days. By Friday night, I was exhausted.

  “Have you heard from him?” I asked Meghan about Derrick.

  “No. Have you heard from him?” Meghan asked me about Carlos.

  “No.”

  We sat silently on the couch eating popcorn and watching a movie we’d seen many times before.

  “Are you going to call him?” I asked her.

  “No. If he wants me, he’ll call me. I’m not going to chase him.” She put a handful of popcorn in her mouth and chewed. “Are you going to call him?”

  “I thought about it on Tuesday because I didn’t like how we ended things on Monday. But I didn’t know what to say. It doesn’t feel like there’s a point.” I shrugged, feeling that tightness in my chest that indicated I might start crying soon.

  “Has he called you?”

  “I haven’t unblocked him.”

  �
�Why?”

  I was quiet for a long time. “Because talking to him is only going to cloud my judgement and make me weak in the knees.” I shook my head. “You weren’t there, Meghan. I had made up my mind. I was leaving, and I wasn’t going to talk to him anymore. And then he walked me to my car, and he looked at me.”

  “Oh, noooooo,” she mocked me with a horrified expression. “He looked at you! How dare he?!”

  I laughed, tossing a popcorn kernel at her. “You’re the worst.”

  “All jokes aside, I get it.” She paused before giving me a rueful smile. “It’s the magic.”

  I nodded. “I couldn’t fight it. I spent a week preparing to see him, and it took a stroll to my car to derail my plan.” I chomped on my popcorn.

  “And here it is almost two weeks since you blocked him, and you still can’t stop thinking about him. What are you going to do if you can’t shake him?”

  “I don’t know. I just… I don’t know. We wouldn’t work.”

  “I understand why you don’t think it’ll work with him. I get it and I agree with your point. But it’s hard because I know that you believe in magic.”

  “I’ve never felt like this before, but what am I supposed to do? Date a man who is privately one of the best men I’ve ever met but publicly encourages fuckboys to be fuckboys?”

  “He’s no City Boy.”

  “Yeah, but he’s still on the show.” I paused. “You know Alex hasn’t been on a date since that tutor guy. She won’t even wear anything lowcut or even remotely revealing. She posted a picture of her and her friends at this social on campus, and she’s wearing a dress with a high neckline.” I made a face. “Alex is basically wearing a turtleneck every day because she feels uncomfortable because of what happened with the newsletter. My sister is scarred because of City Boy. I was harassed and kicked out of Koi because of a Date Night listener. There are real consequences to the ‘advice’ they’re passing out.”

  “You’re right.”

  I let my head fall into my hands. “But I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “Because of the magic between you two.” She rubbed my back. “And because of his dick”

  I lifted my head and laughed. She wasn’t wrong.

  “Yes and yes. But it’s so much more than that,” I admitted before popping another kernel in my mouth and avoiding eye contact. “I’ve never felt seen by a man the way he sees me. He looks at me and it’s like he sees me. He treats me like his equal. He calls me on my bullshit. He can handle being called on his bullshit. He makes me laugh, and he makes me feel special. But he’s…”

  “A Lost Boy?” Her voice was soft and sympathetic.

  I nodded.

  “You want someone who can defend your honor?”

  “Well, he showed me that he can and will defend me. But when he did it, he was defending me from someone who took advice from his show.”

  “It’s a hard one. What does your heart say?”

  “To call him. To date him. To be with him.”

  “And what does your head say?”

  “That at the end of the day, the fact that he doesn’t see anything wrong with Date Night will end us before we can even get started.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. “I don’t know at all.” I dropped my hands and looked at her. “What does your heart tell you about Derrick?”

  “Fuck him. On to the next one.”

  “And what does your head say?”

  “Fuck him. Literally. The sex was good.” She shrugged as I laughed.

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not going to call and if he doesn’t call, fuck it. He’s not my soulmate. He’s a nice guy, but we don’t have much in common. I wouldn’t walk away from the man that is meant for me, and the man who is meant for me wouldn’t walk away from me.”

  “True story.”

  I was in my head for the rest of the night. I went to bed early and woke up late. And around noon I decided that I should unblock him.

  “I’m scared,” I announced as I ate my salad for lunch.

  “Scared to unblock him?”

  “Scared to fall for him.”

  “Ummm…”

  I turned my head to look at her. “What?”

  “Sounds like it’s already happening.”

  I thought about it. “Yeah.” I sighed. “Even more reason to be scared.”

  “This man has you all shook up.” She smiled. “How about you stop stressing about him and think about something that is undoubtable a win. You are about to have your photographs hanging in Rich Gallery at a reception put on by Luca Romano!”

  “Oh my god! You’re right!” I stuffed my mouth full of lettuce and chewed.

  When did I lose my focus?

  The answer was obviously when I started catching feelings for Carlos.

  “Do you know what you’re going to wear? Are your parents driving up? Is Alex still coming? Did you tell anyone at Re-Mix?”

  “My parents are coming. Alex is coming. I didn’t tell anyone at Re-Mix because I don’t know any of those people. I don’t want them to come and think I’m obsessed with dicks.”

  “Ah…true.” She nodded. “Good call.”

  “It’s bad enough my dad will be there.”

  “Yeah. You should’ve told your dad not to come. That’s going to be awkward, and I hope you don’t think I’m going to stand with them when you’re showing yours.” She made a face. “No offense, but I like to enjoy my dick print photos without your mom and dad judging me.”

  Chuckling, I tried to chew the salad in my mouth. When I finally was able to swallow, I cracked up all over again. “You are free to roam the gallery.”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “I don’t know yet. What are you wearing?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I have this lavender streaked wig that I wanted to introduce to the city.”

  “Why don’t you wear that black bodysuit? That’ll be sexy, and it’ll draw attention to your hair.”

  Her eyebrows flew up. “I didn’t even consider the black bodysuit. I’ll be out here looking like a sexy burglar. Is it too much?”

  “Not with the blazer. And then if we go out afterward, you can lose the blazer, and you’ll be club ready!”

  “Yes!” She threw her arms in the air. “Now what are you going to wear?”

  We spent four hours figuring out what I would wear, how I would style my hair, and what shoes I’d put on my feet. By the time we’d finished, it was almost time to leave.

  “How do I look?” I asked as I stepped into the living room.

  Meghan and Alex catcalled as I stepped out in a long-sleeved, plum sweater dress and over-the-knee black, leather boots.

  Spinning in a circle, I smiled uncertainly. “I don’t know if it’ll work for the club, so I’m bringing this, too.” I held up a short, tight black dress.

  “Oh, that’s sexy!” Meghan shouted. “When did you get that?”

  “This summer. I haven’t worn it yet, and I didn’t tell you two thieves about it because I wanted to wear it first.”

  “I would never!” Meghan feigned shock.

  “Well, I’m staying out of your closet for a while,” Alex commented.

  I knew it was meant to be lighthearted, but I couldn’t help but notice the slight edge in her voice. My eyes quickly flicked down and took in her appearance. In a blue sweater dress with plum colored tights, she looked beautiful. But she only wore stuff like that when we were home and going to church. Ever since the newsletter came out, she dressed a lot more modestly. If that were her style, I would’ve been cool with it. But I hated that The Lost Boys took something away from her and made her feel that she had to completely cover her body.

  “Oh!” Alex burst out, looking down at her phone. “Mom said that her and Dad are leaving now.”

  “Okay, cool.” I looked at my dress and then my clutch. “Okay, I have
everything, so I’m leaving now. I’ll see you guys at seven.”

  “You’re going to be so early,” Alex pointed out.

  “I know, but I’m nervous, and I need to get myself together beforehand,” I explained.

  “Nervous to show off her affinity for dick prints,” Alex told Meghan in a loud stage whisper.

  Rolling my eyes, I giggled. “And on that note, I’m leaving!”

  “Good luck!”

  “You got this, Kiki!”

  “Love you guys!” I waved goodbye and left.

  I couldn’t decide on what I wanted to listen to on the drive over, and the silence was making me even more anxious. I kept wondering how it would be to see Carlos and if it would be awkward. I wondered if he was going to show up because he had to record Date Night. I couldn’t deny that he’d gotten under my skin, and I felt shaken by that fact.

  Then it hit me.

  The best way to get him out of my head was to focus on the reason we couldn’t be together. So, before I pulled out of my parking space, I scrolled to the list of podcasts on my phone and saw that there were two new ones from Date Night. Clicking the most recent one, I prepared myself to be angry. Being angry was so much better than being caught up in my feelings. Being angry made me motivated; being caught up in my feelings made me reckless.

  I fast forwarded it through the introduction and then I hit play.

  Twenty minutes of bullshit while I was caught in traffic was just the thing I needed to get my mind off missing Carlos. While he was great in person, hearing him participating in the conversation with City Boy without completely shutting him down or cursing him out felt like Carlos was normalizing City Boy. As much as my heart seemed to call out for Carlos, my mind fully rejected the idea of dating Los Cabos.

  “I think WildStyle1 should approach his coworker,” Country Boy stated, his deep voice bursting through the speakers. “I mean, it’s not like she’s his subordinate.”

  “I think it’s a slippery slope. Stay away from coworkers—especially in smaller offices,” Carlos advised.

  “Speaking of coworkers,” City Boy started. “Carlos worked with anti-Date Night spinster, A. Bishara.”