Awaken Me

by Farrah Rochon

“It is,” Reid agreed. “One of our first goals is to provide scholarships for young African American women who plan to study medicine. Can you imagine how amazing it would be if a recipient of the foundation’s scholarship one day went on to cure heart disease?”

  “You know, your face lights up when you talk about this,” she said.

  Reid dipped his head, although why he suddenly felt embarrassed, he didn’t know. He was proud of what he and his siblings had set out to do.

  He shrugged. “I kinda like the thought of being a part of something that can have a real impact.”

  “You should. This is going to touch a number of lives. And you’re playing a big part in it.”

  If she continued with the compliments his cheeks would soon have singe marks from all this damn blushing.

  “Enough about me,” Reid said, eager to get the spotlight off himself. “Let’s talk about this.” He held up the illustration. “This should be in a bookstore, or on an iPad, or wherever people read comics these days.”

  Now she was the one blushing. Good. They were back in familiar territory. He made women blush, not the other way around.

  Brooklyn got up and sat cross-leg on the blanket, grabbing onto both knees. “You’re just saying that because you want to get to second base again,” she said in answer to his compliment.

  “I never quite caught on to that baseball/sex analogy thing. Is second base what happened last night?”

  She nodded.

  He grinned. “What’s third?”

  “Something you can’t do in public.”

  “You sure about that?”

  She burst out laughing. “You’re not getting to third base today.”

  “Not today, huh? So you’re saying we can revisit this conversation tomorrow?”

  “You, Reid Holmes, are incorrigible.”

  “Stop it with the big words,” he said, moving away from the tree trunk and settling down next to her on the blanket. He propped his elbow on the ground and rested his head against his fist. “And while there is nothing I want to do more than get to third base with you, that’s not why I said your work needs to be in a bookstore. I said it because it’s the truth. Iansan is badass. How do you even come up with this stuff?”

  “I can’t take the credit for Iansan. She’s based on African mythology.”

  “Yet another thing you’re into?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a matter-of-fact shrug. “You can say that. Back when I was in junior high, my mom would bring me to the library used book sales. She used to joke that my reading habit was going to send us to the poor house.” She laughed. “Anyway, I picked up a book on African Mythology and became obsessed. You always hear about the popular gods like Horus and Osiris, but there are so many deities—literally hundreds of them. Each area of the continent has its own distinct mythology.”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m probably boring the crap out of you.”

  “No,” Reid quickly reassured her. “Not at all.

  He loved to hear her talk about the things she was passionate about. And she was passionate about so many different things. He was the one who felt boring compared to her. He didn’t have any cool hobbies or hidden talents or any of the things that made her the interesting, remarkable person he was discovering her to be.

  “I’ve never been one for comic books, or well, any kind of books to be honest,” Reid admitted. “But this story pulled me in.” He dropped his eyes to the drawing, then looked back up at her. “Maybe if I’d been more into comics as a kid, I would have read more. I’ve always liked pictures more than I like words.”

  He started to say more, but then stopped. Was he really willing to share this? But then Reid realized if there was anyone he would share it with, it was the woman sitting next to him.

  “Reading has never been my strong suit,” he continued. He tried to play it off with a casual lift of his shoulder. “I haven’t been officially diagnosed by a doctor or anything, but it’s likely I suffer from something called surface dyslexia.”

  Brooklyn’s eyes widened in surprise, but then her forehead creased with a frown. “If you haven’t been given a diagnosis, how can you be sure?”

  “Because I know how my brain works. And based on what I’ve found online, people with surface dyslexia tend to think and learn the way I do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those self-diagnosing internet people. I’m surprised you didn’t discover it was cancer. Every symptom leads to cancer on the internet.”

  “It’s not as if I did one Google search and decided I’m dyslexic,” Reid said with a laugh. “I’ve researched it a lot over the years. It makes sense. I had meningitis as a baby—it wasn’t a severe case, but I had it. A lot of the studies say that this type of dyslexia is sometimes caused by infections in the brain.”

  “Have you thought about seeking help?”

  Reid shook his head. “Maybe if I’d said something sooner, my parents could have taken me to whatever kind of therapy handles this kind of thing, but I hid it for a long time. And at this point, I’ve gotten so used to compensating, I doubt any legitimate treatment techniques would work for me.” He shrugged. “I’ve managed to do okay. Even in a family like mine.”

  She frowned. “A family like yours?”

  He huffed out a humorless laugh. “You’d have to understand my family to know what I mean by that,” he said. “My oldest brother, Harrison, is an attorney. My other brother, Ezra, is an award-winning journalist, and Indina is an interior designer. Not the kind that picks out drapes for your living room; the kind that comes up with the designs for entire government buildings, and three-story libraries, and shit like that.”

  “They intimidate you,” Brooklyn correctly assessed.

  “Hell yes,” Reid said. “It’s easy to feel inferior when you’re in a family of brainiacs, while you have a hard time making sentences make sense.”

  She scooted over to him, sitting so close her thigh meshed up against his.

  “The fact that you’ve been able to accomplish all you have is enough proof that you aren’t inferior to anyone.”

  She picked up a blade of grass and traced it along his hand, then dropped it and replaced the grass with her fingertip. Reid’s skin burned where she touched it. He relished the innocent, yet intimate contact.

  “You’re the only other person alive who knows about my dyslexia,” he said. She looked up at him, her eyes rounding in dubious disbelief. “You are,” Reid confirmed. “My mom was the only other person who knew.” He released a gruff laugh. “I tried to keep it hidden from her, but you can’t hide shit from your mom.”

  “I’m touched that you would share it with me,” she said, her voice whisper soft.

  Reid ran his palm along the supple jean material covering her thigh. “Enough to let me get to third base?”

  She slapped his hand away. “You just cannot be serious, can you?”

  “I’ve learned over the years that being serious isn’t fun.” He shifted onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that. You write comic books. Having fun should be in your DNA.”

  “It is fun,” she said. “Most of the time.”

  Reid looked over at her. “Most of the time?”

  She stretched out onto her stomach next to him, shoring herself up on her elbows. She reached over the edge of the blanket, plucked another blade of grass, and twirled it between her fingers.

  “The drawing is the fun part, but there are other aspects of the comics world that aren’t as fun.”

  Several beats passed before Reid finally asked, “You plan on elaborating here?”

  “When did this turn into share our secrets hour?” she asked.

  “I’d say the moment you let me read Iansan. You let that secret out of the bag, you might as well spill it all.”

  She released another of those annoyed breaths. “It’s not even a big secret,” she said. “It’s just that I do
n’t really talk about my comics. Like ever.”

  “But why?”

  She hunched her shoulders. “I’m just not comfortable putting my work out there. I’ve seen what happens when people put their work online. The comics community can be brutal.”

  Reid chuckled. “You’re saying there’s a bunch of bullies on the internet talking smack about comics?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” The gravity in her tone caught him off-guard. Before he could question her further, she shrugged and said, “I don’t really get involved in the writing and illustrating side. When it comes to the online community, I’d much rather follow the reader forums. I’m an out and proud Blerd.”

  “Blerd?”

  “Black Nerd,” she clarified, and Reid burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. “Hey,” Brooklyn said, knocking his arm with her elbow. “Nerds are cool. And Blerds are ten times cooler. Despite all the ugly shit that goes on online, for the most part, the Internet has been great for people like me. ”

  “People like you? You’re not some alien life form.”

  “I’ve felt that way at times. It’s not always easy to find people around here—especially black people—who will admit to liking comics and cosplay.”

  “Wait.” He sat up. “You’re not one of those people who’s into dressing up as comic book heroes, are you?” She remained silent, but that blush he was starting to find addicting blossomed on her cheeks. “You are,” Reid said. He fell onto his back again and groaned. “What I wouldn’t do to see you in a sexy ass Wonder Woman costume.” He turned to her and pleaded. “Please wear one for Halloween, I’m begging you.”

  She elbowed him again. “I am not dressing up as Wonder Woman for Halloween,” she said, breaking his heart. “However,” she continued. “I will be debuting another costume I’ve been excited to wear at a Comic Con in Biloxi in a few weeks.” She tilted her head to the side. “You should come with me.”

  “To a comics convention?”

  “It would be a good place to research ideas for the kickoff party.”

  Reid reached over and trailed a faint caress along her arm. In a teasing voice, he asked, “Is that the only reason you want me to come with you?”

  “That’s the only reason I’ll own up to.” She laughed. “I’m afraid of how big your ego will get if I admit to anything more.”

  “I can show you how big my ego can get,” he said, catching her by the wrist and pulling her on top of him. He quickly rolled them over so that he was on top and, looking upon her gorgeous face, said, “I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

  “I’m really, really sure that’s not a good idea,” Brooklyn said.

  “I really, really think you’re wrong. In fact,” he whispered. “If you give me a chance, I can prove just how wrong you are.”

  He felt her chest moving up and down with her quick, shallow breaths. With a warning look in her eyes, she said, “Just remember, no third base.”

  Grinning, Reid leaned forward and fused his lips with hers.

  “No,” he said when she closed her eyes. “Open them. I don’t want you pretending I’m someone else when I kiss you.”

  She choked out a laugh. “Yeah, because that’s something I would do.”

  “Maybe not, but I need to be sure.”

  She slipped her hand around the back of his head and tugged. “I can promise there’s no pretending going on here.” Then she lifted her head and took his mouth in an achingly slow, decadently erotic kiss, mapping the seam of his lips with her tongue before thrusting it inside his mouth.

  Just as he had last night, Reid recognized something was different. He’d kissed more than his share of women, but there was something deeper, something more meaningful with what was happening right now. This wasn’t about him at all. Everything he felt, everything he wanted to do, centered around Brooklyn and the pleasure he wanted her to derive from his kiss.

  He angled his head so he could thrust deeper, advancing his tongue with determination, applying gentle but steady pressure. He lost himself in her kiss, assailing her mouth with insistent strokes, loving every soft moan that escaped her lips. She tasted like the cherry Now and Later candies she’d been eating earlier, bringing back sweet memories of his childhood. He swept his tongue back and forth, aching to sample more of her flavor, craving the softness and warmth he discovered with every plunge.

  God, she was sweet. And sexy. And amazing.

  Controlling his body’s natural response to the feel of her pliant form stretched out beneath his own was beyond his capabilities. If she was paying any attention at all to the lower half of her body, she would become aware of the erection rapidly gaining strength against her thigh.

  He felt her stiffen and knew they were about to have a repeat of last night. But instead of putting a stop to their very public display of affection, she tugged more firmly on his neck and deepened their kiss.

  Reid groaned into her mouth. He flattened his chest against her breasts, covering all of her body with his own. Moving his lips to the slope of her neck, he concentrated on the silkiness of her skin instead of the overwhelming urge to grind his dick into her soft stomach.

  Gotdamn he wanted her.

  He was so hard his body ached, but it was the ache to get closer to her—not just physically, but mentally—that Reid felt even more. This obsession over her had hit him with a swiftness that left him breathless, but there was no denying it. He was ready to bury those days of meaningless hook-ups and empty flings. That was his past. He wanted the woman in his arms to be his future.

  Now, all he had to do was convince her to want the same.

  * * *

  “Is this why you asked me to meet you here?” Brooklyn asked, even as she tilted her head to the side to give Reid better access to her neck.

  He’d texted her only minutes after they’d both left the job site. It had been her first time hearing from him since he stopped in the trailer for his coffee this morning.

  Today had been one of those days, for both of them. Every time Brooklyn thought she’d have a minute to breathe, something else would pop up, demanding her attention. She’d been anticipating seeing Reid for lunch, when he usually switched from his plumbing duties to his role as Alex’s second-in-command. Instead, she’d been called down to City Hall to correct a mistake the site foreman had made on the permits that had been filed to cover the new work that would be done to repair the sinkhole.

  She’d been looking forward to a long bath and binge-watching old episodes of A Different World, but then she’d received Reid’s text, asking if she was free this evening. She should be ashamed at the embarrassing rush of giddy excitement that traveled through her, but she refused to feel one ounce of shame. How could she not be excited in the face of her one-time fantasy becoming reality before her very eyes?

  Reid had included the address to his apartment in his text, claiming he wanted to look up ideas for the foundation’s kickoff party. He assured her he had no ulterior motives, but after this weekend, Brooklyn knew neither of them could be trusted to be alone in his apartment.

  Of course, being out in public didn’t seem to be much of a deterrent to their inappropriate behavior either. Both times they’d kissed, they had been out for all the world to see. Such was the case right now as they sat in one of the comfortable chairs at another of her favorite coffee shops. Brooklyn nestled in Reid’s lap, working on her computer. He’d spent the past hour stroking her arm and placing the sweetest little kisses along her neck, and behind her ear, and on her shoulder.

  How was this real life?

  She still could not fully fathom the fact that this was really happening. How was it that the man she’d pegged as her harmless workplace crush, the man she’d designated as being out of her league, was currently nibbling on her skin as if it tasted like cotton candy? This didn’t happen to her. It just didn’t. She’d never bought into the opposites attract theory. She rolled her eyes at those silly romance stories where the
hot, popular guy fell for the shy, geeky girl. She’d convinced herself that men like Reid just didn’t go for women like her, and she’d been just fine with that.

  Yet, here she was, playing the role of his favorite end of the day snack.

  “What about a costume contest?” Reid asked.

  She looked over her shoulder. “You think the crowd you’re hoping to attract for the kickoff party would go for that?”

  “I think the crowd we’re hoping to attract is so tired of stuffy, tuxedo and ball gown parties that they’ll jump at the chance to have some fun. Don’t you think so?”

  “Sure, but I’m biased. I think it’s perfectly fine to wear a costume to go to the grocery store,” Brooklyn said.

  His shoulders shook with amusement.

  “In all seriousness, I think a costume contest is a great idea. It would encourage people to really get into the whole spirit of the event.” She grinned. “Have you decided what costume you’re going to wear?”

  He hunched his shoulders before burrowing his nose against her neck. “I’m counting on this sexy ass comics-loving girl I know to help me come up with something that’s going to blow every other costume out the water.”

  “Oh, who’s that girl? I’d love to meet her,” Brooklyn said. She yelped when he pinched her thigh.

  “Remember, we’re no longer on the clock. No turning me into HR,” Reid said.

  “How long do you plan to use that excuse?”

  “For as long as you’ll let me,” he said, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose.

  The innocent gesture affected Brooklyn in ways his deep kisses had not. There was something pure and guileless about it. It reminded her of those couples who unconsciously reached for each other’s hand while walking down the street. She’d always been jealous of those people; now she was one of them.

  “Maybe I can be a black superman,” Reid said.

  Brooklyn shook her head. “Nah. That’s played out.”

  “You mean somebody’s already thought of Black Superman? Damn, I thought I was onto something.”

  She laugh so loud at the dejection in his voice, she drew stares from several of the patrons hunched over their laptops. Brooklyn set her computer on the table and twisted around so she could look at him.