7. Malik #2
I grabbed her hand, kissed it, then led her to the bike.
I took one more look at her, and those damn eyes had me ready to be the most obedient, nasty-ass man alive.
They would have me eating out of her damn hand and anything else that had her essence on it.
I shook my head, laughing to myself, then buckled the helmet on her gently.
I climbed on first, slid my own helmet on, and waited for her to settle in behind me.
She climbed up and wrapped her arms around me, tight and trusting.
“I’m ready,” she yelled.
I started the engine and felt it come alive under me. Sametra leaned into me more and gripped me tighter. Her sweet, innocent giggle made me shake my head.
“Let’s ride.”
The ride to Playful Spirit Adult Golf she’d line up her shots like she was playing for the Masters, talking trash the whole time.
When she sank a hole-in-one on the windmill hole, she started twerking, and that had me cracking up and wanting to kiss her at the same time. Her being happy made me happy.
By the time we picked up the Thai food and made it to Riverside Park, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. I’d chosen this spot specifically because it was tucked away from the main walkways, with a view of the water and enough privacy for us to talk.
I spread out the blanket I’d brought in my backpack while she unpacked the food, both of us still riding the high from our races and just being together. The Pad Thai smelled good, but I was more focused on watching her get comfortable, kicking off her sandals, and tucking her legs under her.
“This is perfect,” she said, looking out at the water. “I haven’t done anything like this. I’m 37 and have never been on a picnic.”
“We’ll do more shit like this. Life ain’t over,” I said, handing her a pair of chopsticks.
We ate with only the sounds around us. She looked over at me, and I looked over at her. She grabbed her phone and started to play some music, old-school R she knew what she liked and wasn’t ashamed of it.
“What else are you old school about?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Movies, definitely. Give me something from the ‘90s over this new mess.” She laughed. “I still watch Cry Baby, Poetic Justice, Jason’s Lyric, all the classics. And I’m old school about love, too.”
“Jason’s Lyric? Now that’s a deep cut,” I said, impressed. “You got a thing for bad boys?”
“Maybe,” she said with a mischievous smile that made me look away from her.
That’s when she hit me with it.
“You know I gotta ask. Why is a fine-ass man like you single? I mean, you’re a doctor for crying out loud. Nobody snatched you up?”
I looked at her for a moment, considering how much truth to give her. “And I could ask the same about you. And don’t say Samaj, niggas love playing stepdaddy. I just knew when I looked at your chart, it would say married.”
“Touché,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “But I asked first.”
I slowly stopped eating and looked over at her. She was looking me over trying to spot some hidden defect. I thought back to what Winnie said about her thinking I was defective or something because it was too good to be true. The truth was I that I felt the same about Sametra.
I shrugged instead of answering. My real answer felt like too much.
“You got your shit together, you’re successful, you look like... well, you know you’re fine as hell. What’s the catch? You got extra toes? A crazy ex?” she asked. “Wait, no, a mama’s boy. That’s gotta be it.”
I laughed at the extra toes before I leaned back on my elbows, considering how much truth to give her. Again, my real answer would leave me vulnerable. I’m talking wide the fuck open, and as much as I liked Sametra, I didn’t want to be hurt either.
“I’ve been focused on building my life. Getting where I wanted to be professionally, taking care of my mom, making sure I could handle whatever came next.”
It was half of the truth.
“That’s a safe answer.”