by J. Nichole
We laughed and carried our mason jars full of lemonade to the front porch. “Your mama is sweet, Nick. I like her,” I said as we sat side by side in rocking chairs. “She is my idea of a southern belle.” I laughed.
“Thanks, she can be sweet at times.” He looked to me with sadness in his eyes. “I apologize for my dad.” I did feel the tension between the two of them, and maybe that’s why he’d been tense since we arrived. “He isn’t happy about me using my MBA to open a bar.”
“Oh.” I felt bad because opening a bar was a big piece of who Nick was, it’s what he’d been working so hard for. It’s the reason he was still working at a bar. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I added. Nick looked away from me and I wanted to remove all his pain. “And your mom?” I asked.
He smiled briefly and said, “She’s always proud of me.” He laughed and added, “I could be running a lemonade stand and she would say ‘Well done, son.’ She’s always been like that with her kids.” Nick had two siblings, both older, who he didn’t speak of often. He lowered his head. “But my dad has always been overcritical.” We sat in silence as we finished our mason jars of lemonade.
“We should get going, make sure we make our flight in time,” Nick said as he stood. We walked back into the house and his mother and father were in the living room laughing at the tv. It was nice to hear his father’s laugh because I was starting to imagine him as a tyrant. “We have to get back on the road,” Nick announced.
Mrs. Collins stood from her seat and wrapped Nick in her arms. She whispered in his ear and he nodded his head. “Bye, Pops,” he said before we walked out of the house. We left Macon as quietly as we came, driving back to Atlanta in near silence, except I wasn’t napping this time. I let Nick have his thoughts, as I considered having a family with Nick, and what it would be like to tend to the kids and my husband, as Mrs. Collins described.
Chapter 18
With a sweater wrapped around my scrubs I sat across from Nick near the river. Unlike the warmth of the day, Sacramento at night, especially in the fall, was chilly. “Any crazy patients today?” Nick asked as we browsed the menu.
“Not today, mainly pap smears and annual check-ups,” I said thinking about the patients at the OB clinic where I decided to do my residency. “Tomorrow will be hectic though.” Nick frowned. “I’ll be on-call at the hospital.” Being on-call meant I wouldn’t see Nick for a couple of days. I’d be at the hospital most of the day, and usually needed a day to recover from all the hours.
“We’ll make tonight last then,” he said with a grin. He turned his gaze to the river at a passing boat. “Only a week till I leave.”
“Don’t remind me,” I said as the dread overwhelmed me. Nick’s investors decided his concept would be best fit in San Jose. San Jose, not Sacramento. I was heartbroken when he shared the news. “I don’t even want to think about you being that far away, especially since we are having a hard time seeing each other now and we are only minutes away from each other.”
Nick left his side of the table and joined me in the seat next to mine. He draped an arm around my shoulder and said, “In under two hours, maybe faster on my bike, I can be here.” He kissed my cheek and I smirked. It wasn’t about the time it’d take for him to get to me, it was about his free time he’d have to make the trip.
“Alright,” I said as our food was delivered. “We should enjoy our time together now,” I said with a slight smile.
“Before I forget,” he said between bites of his fish taco. “This weekend, we’re still good right?” I wriggled my eyebrows. Nick planned a night out for us, dinner and dancing. “Make sure you catch up on your sleep from your shift too. I want you to have all the energy you need to stay on the dance floor”—he cleared his throat—“and still be able to twerk in the bed.”
“Believe me, even if I need a couple of cups of coffee after dancing, I’ll be ready.” I side-eyed him. “You may need to massage my aches after dancing though.” I smiled at the memory of my last full body massage, after Nicole’s wedding.
“As long as you don’t pass out after,” he said with his head cocked.
After the wedding I maintained my workout routine and eating habits, and my waist proved it had paid off. I rubbed my hands down my stomach and over my hips straightening out the emerald green dress I was wearing. I turned in the mirror to check the back of my hair, released from my daily bun into its natural curls. I puckered my lips as I walked into the living room to pull on my heels.
The knock at my door woke the butterflies in my stomach. I walked to the door, and as I opened it my mouth dropped. Seeing Nick dressed in a gray suit made the butterflies do somersaults. I reached for my stomach to calm them down. “Mr. Collins,” I said dragging out his name. “You are handsome as fuck.” His cheeks blushed and he dipped his head and wiped his hand across his chin.
“And you, Ms. White, look good enough to eat,” he said with a wink. I reached forward and wrapped my arms around him to let him have a taste of what’s to come later tonight. “Grab your bag, if I have any more of that the only place I’m taking you is to the bed.” I laughed and grabbed my clutch from the countertop.
Hand in hand, we walked to the parking lot to my car. I threw Nick the keys and he opened my door letting me inside. We navigated to the restaurant, where we sat across each other at a table dressed in a white cloth, porcelain plates, and sterling silverware.
A quartet played from a corner of the restaurant, and we listened as they played classic jazz. “This place is so romantic,” I said after we ordered our food. I looked at the tables around us. “Pouring it on strong, Mr. Collins.”
“Nothing but the best for my love,” he said. “Besides, we are celebrating tonight.” I sat forward and waited for him to explain. “We’ve been dating for six months.”
“I feel like I should have been the one to recognize that,” I said looking at him with a tight smile. He shrugged. “But it’s a perfect way to celebrate, although it feels longer than six months.”
“’Cause maybe it is.” He laughed. “I made that up.”
I rolled my eyes at him, “Had me over here thinking you were really on top of your shit.” I laughed. “Glad to know we are on the same page.”
He readjusted in his seat and said, “But we are celebrating.” He grabbed his glass of VSOP and nodded in the direction of my glass of wine. “To realizing we were better together than apart.” He clinked my glass then added, “Since getting back together we haven’t taken the time to celebrate.”
“You’re right.” I took a sip of my wine, another California white wine Nick thought I’d like. Each course of our meal was served, and reminded me that rich folks ate like mice. The dainty serving sizes had my stomach still growling by the time the server brought our check.
“Hope you aren’t too stuffed to dance,” Nick said as we entered the jazz club. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings and tell him I was still hungry so I ignored the smell of hot wings and fries near the door.
We moved through the club, and my body began to sway as I heard the beat for “My, My, My,” and even though Johnny Gill was before my time, I knew the line Nick hummed in my ear, “You sure look good tonight.” With one hand wrapped in mine and the other rested on my hip he guided us across the dance floor.
Renditions of R&B hits were played by the jazz band, and the lead singer serenaded us with a voice as beautiful as Whitney’s. The dance floor embraced us and we didn’t break to find a table till the band ended their first set of the night. “Sorry to say, that jazz band is putting blue-eyes from the bar and his back-up crew to shame.” Nick laughed. “This place is packed too.” Our table was in a dark corner, and if I was frisky it would be a perfect make out spot.
“Blue-eyes? Is that what you call him?” I nodded my head. “After all this time, guess I never did introduce y’all.” He twisted his lips and said, “Before I leave I’ll do that.”
I sighed thinking about the days ahead, our last together before he�
��s off to another city. “I should get a drink,” I said. We ordered a couple of drinks, and a cheesecake for good measure. I looked across the room at an older couple sitting close together. “Bet they’ve been together forever.”
Nick turned in their direction and said, “Yeah, they are on that second wind love.” I turned from them to him and he continued, “Kids all grown and out of the house, they have more money and freedom than they did when they first met, now that love has been reignited.”
“Do you want kids?” I blurted out.
His eyes grew wide and he said, “I sure do. As many as my wife will be willing to give me.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “Me too, just don’t know how many I’d want.” The band took the stage again and we were up on the dance floor grooving to a set of recent R&B hits, when the lead singer started singing Teyana Taylor’s “Gonna Love Me” and Nick pulled me closer. The second time she sang the hook, Nick sang along in my ear, “I wanna spend my nights with you, my life with you,” and I ignored the butterflies that had returned from earlier.
When the song was over Nick asked, “Ready to call it a night?” I nodded my head.
He drove us back to my place and there was no question that he’d spend his night with me. When we got inside, he stopped at the kitchen and asked, “Did you enjoy our celebration?”
“It was the best fake six-month anniversary I’ve ever had.”
We shared a laugh and he said, “Think we should pick a date to celebrate for real?” I shrugged. “Yeah, probably not as important, right?”
I sunk down on the couch and said, “Actually,” as I removed my heels, “What’s your favorite number?”
“Thirty-three.” I smacked my lips, and he asked, “What?”
“Below thirty-one.”
“Oh,” he laughed. “Let’s say three.”
“Okay, the third it is, that’ll be our day. And February third, we’ll say it’s our one-year anniversary.” He started to walk towards me. “I mean, if we are together.”
He took my chin in his hand and tilted my face to kiss my lips. “February third it is.” He slid his hand up my dress caressing my thighs. “You know”—he looked at me with his eyes glazed over—“that cheesecake was good”—he flicked a finger against my panties—“but this is better.” I grabbed the back of his head and my lips crushed into his.
His hands caressed my thighs and moved up to my chest before his lips left mine and found my neck. I felt his tongue tracing circles near my collarbone while my hands roamed his chest.
My dress was gorgeous, for the night, but at that time, it was proving to be a restraint between the two of us. I wanted my skin bare, to feel the warmth of his body. So I pulled away from his kisses, stood, and unzipped my dress letting it fall to the floor. I didn’t wait for him to touch me again; instead, I turned and walked to the bedroom leaving him a full view of my ass and bare back. Before I entered my room, I slipped out of my panties and left them beside the door.
Without a look over my shoulder I knew he was close behind me. I could feel him. I laid on the bed and watched him remove his clothes, unbuttoning his shirt painfully slow with his eyes set on mine. When his shirt was on the floor and his hands around his buckle, I resisted the urge to touch myself. But my feet rubbed against my comforter and my thighs open and spread giving me the friction I needed to watch his strip tease.
With his pants finally off, he climbed into the bed and grabbed my hand placing it between my legs. “Looked like you wanted to do this,” he said as he guided my hand. While my hand worked my pussy over he alternated between my neck and my nipples, sucking with abandon.
My moans went from soft whimpers to loud grunts as we continued. He abruptly moved my hand and replaced it with his mouth, but only long enough to tease me. He reached for the condom next to the pillow and rolled it on while I readied myself.
The tip of his dick sat at my entrance, and I tried to hitch my hips up to push him inside but as I pushed he pulled back. “Nick,” I groaned. Then he rubbed his shaft up the length of my crevice, and I was starting to tingle. “I’m going to cum if you don’t stop teasing me,” I warned through gritted teeth.
He leaned down and kissed my ear, before he entered me, completely. As I warned, my body began to pulsate around him. My legs became weak and I could no longer hold them up around his waist. My breathing began to slow as the strokes quickened. I watched him as his eyes closed and he bit his bottom lip. “Shit,” he said as his body shook, then he collapsed. “I wish I could pack that in my moving boxes and bring it with me,” he said as we laid side by side.
Chapter 19
We had all intentions of making this long distance thing work, at least I did. Intentions were as weak as assumptions, they both had the power to produce a fool. In my case, I was the fool for believing two hours, or less, would be close enough for quick visits.
As my on-call status increased, and Nick’s bar opened, we spent more time on FaceTime than we did with face time. It led to unnecessary conflict, and arguments.
But I was willing to make it work. I was driving my ass to San Jose to make an impromptu visit for the weekend. Then the inevitable happened before I could hit the road, the resident on-call, called out sick. “Dammit,” I said to myself as I walked through the clinic.
“You alright?” Daniel asked. He was the receptionist, and surely he heard the obscenity as I passed him not exactly mumbling under my breath. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, with my hands across my chest, I was having a full on toddler tantrum, sans kicking and screaming on the floor. “Wow”—he swung around in his chair to face me—“must be serious.”
I shrugged my shoulder not wanting to get into it with anyone, certainly not Daniel of all people. He was the deliverer of tea in our office, and if I said a word to him it wouldn’t take long before he was in the staff lounge giving everyone my business. “Nothing,” I said begrudgingly.
He raised his eyebrows and said, “Alright, if you need to talk about anything let me know.” He sucked his tongue and I cringed.
“I’m headed out.” I grabbed my bags and the on-call pager. “You know how to get me, if you need me.” I emphasized ‘if.’ Last thing I needed was Daniel not knowing how a patient should be coded and paging me to fill him in.
My weekend started, as others had recently, terrible as shit with no dick in sight. I dug for my phone and called Nick. “Hey, busy?” I asked.
I could hear the noise of people around him, likely gathered for happy hour. “A little, but what’s up?” he asked.
“Headed home, pissed ‘cause I’m on-call for the weekend now,” I said with a pout.
“Sorry to hear that,” he said without anything further.
“Call me when you’re home,” I said without waiting to hear him confirm.
Because I planned to be in San Jose for the weekend, I had already crammed in my studying for the week. I sat on my couch staring at the walls around me when I decided, the next best thing to being with Nick would be being in a familiar space. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
The bar and Thai restaurant sat in front of me and I contemplated grabbing a to go order and taking it into the bar, but I didn’t have the luxury of doing that without Nick at the bar. Instead, I walked into the bar, and oddly the sound of blue-eyes’ voice calmed my nerves. I sat at the bar, where a red-headed guy walked over and asked, “What can I get for you?”
“I’ll take a glass of Violetta, and an order of wings,” I said placing my jacket behind my chair. I looked around the bar for another familiar face but I didn’t see it, the brunette was also missing. She had gone to San Jose when Nick first opened the bar, but I thought she’d be back by now.
The red head placed my glass of Violetta on the bar in front of me, and the citrusy flavor piqued my senses. I hadn’t had a drink in weeks. Another unfamiliar face delivered my wings, with a charming smile. He was a tanned white guy with a full arm tattoo and piercings in his ears. “Thank
you,” I said as he walked away.
The bar was crowded and customers were singing along with blue-eyes’ covers, and I was people watching. The guy beside me was taking shots at the women at the bar, stopping every couple of seats to speak and find a willing participant to converse with him. Most of the women weren’t interested, turning to their drinks and ignoring eye contact with him. I followed their lead when I saw him walking in my direction.
I didn’t have a chance to ignore him when my pager went off. “Shit,” I whispered to myself. I flagged down the bartender and asked for a box and the check.
The page was for a delivery, and as I drove to the hospital I regretted the few sips of wine I had. I tried to think through the patients who were likely due, and came up short. When I checked in at the nurse’s desk, I learned it was a patient who was a few months from her due date.
I took a deep breath before I entered her room. When I walked in, I saw her in tears, her husband beside her holding her hand and stroking her head. “Hello, Mrs. Peterson.” She and her husband both looked at me. “I’m going to run a few tests on you, depending on the results we’ll know what we need to do to delay labor.” A slight smile crossed her face and I was glad to bring her comfort, even if only momentarily.
I ordered labs and an ultrasound then called Dr. Patel, her assigned obstetrician, to give her an update. “Administer terbutaline, and watch her for the next couple of hours. Contractions should decrease, if not call me back, otherwise I’ll check on her during my morning rounds.”
My Friday night became more interesting. Watching Mrs. Peterson for hours kept me at the hospital. As I was walking from her room to the staff break room, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around and I was surprised to see Leigh. “Hey, I thought that was you,” she said.
“Leigh.” I smiled and opened my arms to embrace her. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you doing an OB residency too?” I asked. She shook her head and explained she was doing a residency in emergency.