Chapter 10
T h e f i r s t t h i n g I heard was cartoon music and the sound of tiny feet slapping on hardwood. Then came the smell of leftover tequila.
I rolled over on the pullout couch, squinting against the sunlight creeping through the blinds, and groaned into my pillow.
I had drool on the side of my mouth, and my lashes were stuck to the side of my face.
Taj’s six-year-old twins were running full-speed back and forth like they had somewhere to be.
“Mommmmyyy! She hit me!”
“No, I didn’t! He lyin’!”
I sighed and sat up slowly, letting my sleepy eyes adjust. Taj’s small living room looked like a crime scene.
Throw blankets were tossed across the floor, last night’s bottle of Casamigos sat abandoned on the end table, a few half-empty red cups were scattered around, and the unplugged ring light—forgotten from our impromptu karaoke session—rested against the wall.
We had an R the twins finally quieted, and delicious smells began to fill the kitchen.
We moved around each other easily, communicating with small gestures like we’d been cooking together forever.
As I stirred the roux, my mind kept drifting back to Woods, his memory tugging at my thoughts every few minutes.
His smell, his voice, his weight, the sound I made. Even after twelve hours, I still felt it. I glanced at Taj, layering cheese in her pan, her bonnet lopsided and seasoning smeared on her wrist.
I cleared my throat. “So… I might’ve had a little situation during my layover.”
She paused mid-sprinkle. “Situation?”
I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes on the pan of baked mac I was preparing.. “Airport bar. Vibes. Bathroom.”
Taj gasped loud enough to make her daughter peek around the corner. “Biiitchhh!”
I laughed. “Lower your voice.”
“No. No. You not just gon’ say bathroom like you was just freshenin’ up. You ain’t slick!” she accused.
I kept stirring. “We didn’t even exchange numbers.”
“Autumn, be fuckin’ for real.”
I shrugged. “It happened so fast. The chemistry was wild, though.”
Taj slid the pan over to me. “Wild enough to risk a public health violation?”
“Wild enough to still be thinking about it now.”
She leaned on the counter, eyes wide. “Okay, so run it. Was he fine?”
“He was fine-fine. Real calm energy. A slight accent. Tatted. Smelled like good weed and bad intentions.”
She fanned herself dramatically. “Ooooh. See? That’s the dangerous kind. So what, you just let him crack in the stall like y’all been locked in for years?” she cackled.
“Something like that.”
She shook her head, grinning. “You nasty. I love it. Holiday hoochie vibes activated,” she crowed.
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “It wasn’t even like that.”
“Mmhm. You ain’t gotta explain shit to me, friend. Just send up a prayer that he pops back up. If not, I’m still hookin’ you up with my cousin,” Taj threatened playfully.
With both pans of mac slid into the oven and the counters wiped down, Taj poured more juice for the kids before vanishing to get ready. I took advantage of the lull to slip into the bathroom for a lingering shower.
I showered after the kids and took my time. Steam filled the bathroom while slow jams played on my phone. I let my body remember Woods’ hands—the way he filled me like he had a point to prove, then left me aching with a hard kiss, asking nothing.
I stepped out, lotioned up, and pulled on a short-sleeved hunter green dress that hugged my body and snatched my waist. It dipped low in the front, making the girls look luscious.
I took my flexi rods down and fingered through the curls before reapplying fluffy lash clusters.
I slipped on gold jewelry and applied lip liner, nude lipstick, and gloss.
I chose to rock a pair of wedges and a brown LV clutch.
I don’t know all of what the day would bring with Taj’s loud family, but I’d be damned if I wasn’t walking into it pretty as fuck.