10. Jawaan
Wait, did she say Jamaica Spivey?
It takes me a minute to process and get past the initial sting of hearing Zurmani's friend's name.
"Damn. I can speak for myself," Jamaica cuts in, shoving Evie out of the way before extending her hand toward me. "It's nice to put a face to the name we've been hearing so much about."
Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Clearly, she doesn't know who you are. Be cool.
Plastering a smile on my lips, I shake Jamaica's outstretched hand, fighting the intense drumming in my chest cavity.
"It's nice to meet you," I respond, pushing the words from my mouth without giving away the torment bubbling within me.
"All right. We're out of here. Have fun," Evie declares before she and Jamaica walk past me, exiting the porch.
"Let me grab my keys, and then I'll be ready to go," Zurmani says before returning to the house, leaving me alone.
Shake this shit off. Ensure Zurmani has a great first date and deal with the skeleton falling from your closet later. You can do this. Masks are your specialty.
"All right. I'm ready," Zurmani's sweet voice penetrates my ear canal, snapping me out of my pep talk.
"Before we go, I would be a trifling man if I didn't let you know how good you look, Tigress. Jeans have never looked so good, girl." Connecting our hands, I lift Zurmani's hands, lightly kissing her smooth skin.
A smirk plays on my lips when I see goosebumps pop in the place where my mouth landed on Zurmani's hand.
"Thank you. So do you."
"Trust me, watching you eye-fuck me gave me all the confirmation and confidence I needed. Let's get moving."
Leading Zurmani to my vehicle, I open the passenger door and wait for her to get comfortable before closing the door.
All right, God, please allow me to get through this date without a game of peek-a-boo from my trauma.
"Do you have a music preference, or are you good with whatever?" I ask after getting in.
"Other than rap, classical, rock, or country, I'm good with whatever."
A low chuckle escapes my mouth when I hear the list of genres Zurmani isn't open to. I'm unsure if she realizes she outlined her preference. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I grin sinisterly before a song flows through the speakers.
"How about this?" I ask, smirking.
"Oh my God. What is this mess?" Zurmani is frowning deeply, and the area around her eyes is tight, causing me to laugh.
"What? You never mentioned heavy metal. This is my shit, woman."
"What?" Zurmani's mouth opens and closes, causing my humor to increase from the deer-in-headlights expression on her face.
Her toffee complexion has a tinge of red creeping onto her cheeks, and a hearty laugh escapes my mouth when Zurmani covers her ears.
"Jawaan, please."
"Okay, I'll quit messing with you," I say, pulling up Pandora and selecting a station quickly becoming one of my favorites.
?
Why does it seem the ones we love much more,
Smile in your face. you love they will ignore
?
"Ooh, now this I can get with and appreciate. This is a classic by John P. Kee. This is music," Zurmani voices, snapping her fingers and moving her body.
"Don't be insulting my music. That was Judas Priest, and it was a?—"
"Bunch of mess. Don't try to convince me otherwise. Now hush, I'm enjoying this."
A low chuckle flows from my lips before I back out of the driveway, ready to get this date moving.
"I can. I will. I must. I shall, I shall survive. I will," Zurmani sings, and the angelic sound of her voice causes my eyes to snap in her direction when I reach the end of her street.
"Wow. You better sing, girl."
Zurmani's voice sounds like birds in the morning, causing a smile to slip into place at feeling like I'm listening to a choir of angels. Taking my foot off the brake, I turn onto the street while joining in with Zurmani.
"Someone told me that I was too involved. The cycle of life won't change. It only revolves," I sing while bobbing my head and steering us toward our destination.
The heaviness filling my body after meeting Evie and Jamaica leaves my shoulders the more Zurmani and I sing the song. When we reach the final chorus, my body completely releases all the tension I feel.
"I shall. Survive," I say, looking over at Zurmani to see the bright shimmer in her eyes that instantly fills me with merriment.
"Mhm. Leave it on this because that other person doesn't ever deserve air time again," Zurmani says.
"Uh, where are we, Jawaan?" Zurmani asks when we pull into a parking lot filled with cars.
The onyx color building beside the parking lot doesn't allow its attendees to determine what lies within the structure. So, I understand entirely why Zurmani would be questioning our whereabouts.
"This is our first destination of the night."
"That's cute, but I've never heard of Dungeon of Plays, and I have lived in Ribax my whole life. Did you bring me to a sex club?" The cute pout on Zurmani's lips and the wonder in her eyes have me chuckling.
"You're gonna have to trust me," I insist, raising my brow with a goofy grin before getting out of the vehicle and quickly moving to the passenger side.
With my life being one of many layers, I wanted to give Zurmani a memorable date, which led to me bringing her to this location. Despite the name, Dungeon of Plays is far from being a sex club or any other form of eroticism. Opening the door, I fight the urge to laugh when Zurmani is on her feet, cautiously connecting our hands.
"Just so you know, I'm wearing granny panties, which won't do a thing for the sexy vibe of this dungeon."
A shout of laughter leaves my mouth from the tightness around Zurmani's eyes and the deadpan tone of her voice.
This is why I need this woman in my life. Usually, I'm making other people laugh but Zurmani gives me multiple opportunities to feel and express humor in her presence.
"Damn, I'm amazed at your ability to wiggle in those jeans while wearing granny panties. I'm gonna have to submit your name to Guinness because I'm sure you deserve an accolade or something."
"Seriously wh?—"
"Welcome to Dungeon of Plays. I need to stamp your hands," a steroid-looking dude instructs when we reach the front entrance.
"Is this a sex club?" Zurmani quietly asks while leaning closer to the man, who laughs loudly. "Why is that funny?"
"Come on, woman. Let me remove the mystery so you can calm down," I respond, guiding Zurmani inside the large warehouse-like structure.
Ting. Ting. Zap. Zap.
"Wait... it's an arcade," Zurmani says when the sounds in the room bounce around the expansive space.
"Mhm. You should be ashamed of yourself for letting that dirty mind of yours run like that. I'm a wholesome g—" I start laughing when Zurmani stops walking before her left brow hikes, and her head cocks to the side with her right hand resting on her waist.
"Be for real, Jawaan."
"I am. Just yesterday, I was walking up the King?—"
"Jawaan Young, I'm not about to let you play in God's face. Please don't ruin this date by forcing God to humble you."
Putting my hands up in a sign of surrender, I waved the white flag because I had been within seconds of a dangerous fabrication.
"You're right. What would you like to play first?" I ask.
Warmth dances across my chest, and my stomach jolts when the corners of Zurmani's mouth turn upward. Seeing Zurmani's smile causes an electrifying and satisfying feeling to spread through my body.
"Pac-Man if they have it. I haven't played it since I was a kid."
"I'm sure they do." Grabbing Zurmani's hand, I lead us toward the old-school arcade games.
One thing I can appreciate about this particular establishment is that all the arcade games are broken down by year of creation. It gives this place a unique and intricate vibe that most businesses like it don't have. I attribute the thoughtful planning to the owner, a heavy gamer who also appreciates every type of fun all ages can enjoy.
"Here it is. How about taking turns and placing a wager on who wins?" I ask.
"Hm. Okay. I'm sure I'll beat you just like when we played games at your house."
A sneaky grin forms because Ms. Zurmani doesn't know that knowing the owner means my opportunity to spend countless hours here whenever I want. I'm pretty confident I'll come out the victor this time.
"You're pretty confident, Tigress."
"I am.
"Good. What do you want to wager?"
"Bragging rights and a commemorative souvenir from here."
"Say less."
"You're about to go down, Mr. Young."
Awe, my pretty Tigress. You're about to discover how determined I can be when something significant is on the line.
"You won fair and square, so I can't take your trophy."
Maybe ten years from now, I'll tell Zurmani that she never had a chance playing Pac-Man with me. In the meantime, I'm basking in my ability to gloat over beating her, although it definitely wasn't fair.
"Nah. Bragging rights are for me. That thing is for you," I say, pointing at the stuffed replica of the game symbol I'd beat Zurmani at.
I'll also cherish seeing Zurmani concentrating while playing with her teeth and clenching her lips. My Tigress was determined to emerge as the victor during the tiebreaker game. Poor baby had even pulled her thick and mountainous curls into a ball, thinking it would help her.
"I blame the little kid who bumped me when I was getting into my groove," she says, pouting.
Shaking my head, my mouth twists and I exit the vehicle without uttering a word because Zurmani is reaching with her excuse. The kid in question barely touched Zurmani, and the only reason she knew of his presence was because I told him to watch where he was going when he ran close to where we were playing.
"At least the place doesn't creep me out or fill me with anxiety," Zurmani admits when I open her door and help her out.
Our final stop on this date is a place I'm hoping will enhance Zurmani's ability to see me in a well-rounded way. Planning Zurmani a regular date didn't feel organic or original, and I'm hoping to win her over at the end of the night. Doing so means pulling out the big guns and putting more time into the strategy necessary to plan our first date.
"I'm happy to have your mind at ease. This place will give you the intimate vibe that's intricate to a memorable first date experience."
Candle Lights and Jazz Nights is a jazz club with a laid-back atmosphere that will allow Zurmani and I to unwind, talk, dance, and share a meal. This establishment isn't like a typical club but one that provides its patrons with a relaxing feel while partaking in the things it offers. The club is new, but I have heard some great things about the menu the owner, Dee Dee Hendricks, has curated.
"Ooh, it's nice in here."
Zurmani takes the words out of my mouth when we enter the building, taking in the low lighting with a sparkling red glow around the interior. There isn't anyone at the entrance, but a sign lets us know it's open seating. Seeing an empty table semi-adjacent to the stage where a man softly plays a saxophone, I lead Zurmani that way.
"Thank you," Zurmani expresses when I pull out her chair, waiting for her to sit before moving to the empty seat beside her.
"Are you hungry?"
Picking up the menu, my mouth waters when I see honey skillet cornbread under the list of appetizer options. My stomach growls, letting me know that food isn't up for discussion.
"Mhm. This cornbread is calling my name," Zurmani says.
"Say less."
When the song being played by the saxophonist becomes more apparent, I push my chair back, extending my hand out toward Zurmani.
"Will you dance with me, Tigress?"
Placing her hand in mine, Zurmani stands and we move to the dance floor with my heart beating out of sync seconds before taking Zurmani in my arms. My lips unconsciously land on Zurmani's neck in a light kiss before I lowly sing to her as our bodies move around the center of the space where other couples join us dancing.
"Oh, oh, I never felt this way. How do you give me so much pleasure?" I sing, noting the shiver coming from Zurmani, causing me to tighten my hold on her body.
I feel like the luckiest man in the room to have the prettiest woman in my arms. Although, I'm not shivering like Zurmani, I feel like all is right in my world just because Zurmani is in her rightful place. Feeling Zurmani this close to me has me fighting the urge to exhale like Whitney Houston did in that movie. For the first time in a very long time, I feel content and like everything is going to be all right.
"I was gonna wait until I took you home, but this moment feels right. Will you be my woman, Zurmani?" I whisper so only she can hear me.
Zurmani pulls away. We're now staring at each other, and the intense eye contact has my blood pressure spiking from the intensity of her gaze.
"I will."
Wow. She agreed without hesitation. Yes!
Mentally, I'm pumping my fist at Zurmani's agreement, but here in the present, my head slowly moves toward Zurmani's lips. My pulse increases, and my mind spins on its axis when our lips touch for the first time. Fireworks explode in the fragments of my mind while I deepen the kiss, losing myself in the feeling of Zurmani's pillow-soft lips. I feel like I'm floating the longer we kiss, yet I don't want to end our connection. Adding our tongues to the mix is well-timed, granting us permission to explore the recesses of each other's mouths.
There is no greater joy than living in this moment with the woman capable of healing what she hasn't been able to see.