Curvy Girl Summer

Chapter 15

I flinched.

His words felt like cold water thrown on my back. My hand tightened on the door handle as his words played in my head over and over again. I dropped my arms to my sides, and the door clicked softly as it closed. Taking a breath, I turned to face him.

Ahmad’s face was serious, and his eyes were downcast.

I swallowed hard. “What?” I whispered.

He turned and headed toward his couch, and I followed. He took a seat on one end of the couch, and I was on the opposite end. We sat in silence for a minute. I stared at the cushion separating us while I gathered my thoughts. When I was ready, I looked up to find him already staring at me.

Pulling on every emotion within me, his eyes bored into mine.

My heart beat faster with each passing second.

“I, um… Sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about this.” He rubbed his hands together and then tried starting again. “Up until recently, I wore that ring every day for three years.” He cleared his throat. “You want something to drink?”

Watching him chew his bottom lip, I felt his anxiety on the other side of the couch.

“No, thank you,” I said quietly.

It was as if I were afraid that if I spoke too loudly, it would scare the truth from the room. It was obvious what he was trying to share with me was difficult. I didn’t want to make it harder for him. I also had no intention of letting him off the hook. I needed to know what was going on.

“I met Kayla on TenderFish when I was twenty-six,” he said after a slight hesitation. “She’d just turned thirty. We dated for two years, and then we got engaged. I gave her a ring, and she got me that black band to wear a week later. She said if everyone knew she was off the market, everyone needed to know I was off the market, too.” He smiled at the memory. “Our relationship was pretty good, but…” He paused, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Our relationship was good, but after we got engaged, we hit some bumps. Our lives didn’t really come together as cohesively as I would’ve liked, but overall, we were good. Uh… one night, we ended up getting into an argument over kids. She was ready, and I wasn’t. She made plans with her girls to blow off some steam. I stayed home because it was a Thursday night, and I had a big presentation in the morning.”

He fell silent, and his eyes dropped from mine. His chest rose and fell, and I watched each shaky breath he took. I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted to hug him tight. I wanted to let him know that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to be there for him.

Instead, I sat there watching him, waiting for him to finish.

“She had too much to drink, and she called me at almost two o’clock in the morning to come get her. I was irritated. Nah, I was pissed. She knew I had that presentation. She knew I was still mad about how our conversation earlier in the night went. So I felt like she called to wake me up on purpose. But I still went to get her because I loved her, and I didn’t want her driving.”

He let out a big breath, and then his gaze met mine again. “I picked her up, and we immediately got into it. I called her selfish for going out and drinking and then expecting me to pick her up. She said I was selfish for not wanting a baby, knowing she was thirty-two and her biological clock was ticking. I told her I loved her, but she was on some bullshit, and I didn’t have anything else to say. She started crying and yelling. I just ignored her because it was two o’clock in the morning and I didn’t want to say some shit I didn’t mean. We were at a red light, and I remember looking over at her and shaking my head. I knew ignoring her would only make her madder… and it did. So, then she screamed, ‘Say something!’ at the top of her lungs.” He swallowed hard. “And that’s the last thing I remember before a car slammed into the back of us, pushing us into the intersection and causing us to get T-boned.”

I gasped, bringing my hands to my face.

“I woke up in a hospital. I had a broken leg, bruised ribs, a busted lip, and a concussion.” Anguish pulled at his lips before he was able to continue. “They told me what happened. They said they’d arrested the drunk driver—who, oddly enough, didn’t have a scratch on them. They were telling me everything except for where Kayla was. Finally, Kayla’s mom and sister told me what happened to Kayla, and they said… they said she died on impact.”

“I’m so sorry, Ahmad.”

He shook his head. “For a long time, I blamed myself.”

I searched his face. “You weren’t the one drinking and driving. You did everything you were supposed to do. She was drinking and you were her designated driver. You got up in the middle of the night and were there for her. You came to a complete stop at the light. You didn’t cause the accident.”

“For a long time, I couldn’t shake the fact that if we wouldn’t have gotten into that argument, she wouldn’t have gone out with her friends. But I worked that out in therapy. So now I don’t blame myself for her dying—but I still can’t get behind the wheel. I haven’t driven in almost three years because of it.” He exhaled. “That whole thing fucked me up.”

“Losing someone unexpectedly can fuck you up in ways you never saw coming,” I reflected sorrowfully. “I overstand.”

He looked like he was waiting for me to continue, but when I didn’t, he sighed. “I haven’t been driving. I haven’t been in a relationship. I haven’t…”

“Healed?” I guessed quietly.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that. I just hadn’t felt compelled to do either. So I wore the ring because Kayla gave it to me. And then as time went on, I wore the ring because it kept me from having to explain my situation. I didn’t have to be rude. I didn’t have to reject anyone. I could just deal with my shit and mind my business. Apparently, I was using it as a defense mechanism.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I can see that. What did your therapist say about that?”

“Dr. Mary knows I’m at peace with that relationship, and she said that the ring would come off when I was ready. But she’s been more focused on getting me back behind the wheel. And like I told her, a relationship is a choice. But driving…” He let out a low whistle. “You can do everything right, and some asshole who drank too much can knock your shit back.”

I understood where he was coming from. I understood that his loss impacted him. I wanted to tell him that, but I didn’t want to make the conversation about me. We were talking about him and what he had going on, so I wanted to give him the space to share.

My heart went out to him.

“When was the last time you got behind the wheel?” I wondered.

“Maybe six months after the accident. I had a panic attack, and Asia ended up picking me up. I told her what happened, and she had me linked up with a therapy appointment that next week.” He let out a short laugh. “Before that, I wasn’t the therapy type. But getting my cast off and thinking I was going to drive over to Mom and Dad’s real quick put things into perspective. I had shit I needed to deal with.”

“I’m so glad Asia had your back like that. Being in therapy can be a game changer. Your friends and family are good to talk to, but when you’re dealing with grief, loss, PTSD, trauma, guilt, you needed Dr. Mary.”

“Hell yeah, because I wasn’t talking to anybody about what I had going on. And then I didn’t even want to tell them I was in therapy. I didn’t tell my boys. I didn’t tell my parents. I didn’t tell anyone until I was a year in with Dr. Mary.”

“What made you tell them?”

“Asia let something slip to my parents, and then they asked me about it. And with Darius and Leon, Darius was going through something, and I suggested he go to therapy. After they got their jokes off, we talked about it, and he went.”

“That’s good,” I told him. “Thank you for sharing with me. I could see that it wasn’t easy for you, and you did it anyway.”

“Because I couldn’t let you walk out of here thinking I lied to you.” His eyes darted around my face. “I wouldn’t lie to you. And you do know me.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“I’m sorry, too.”

I nodded, feeling petty.

He turned his body on the couch, resting his arm along the back of it. “Now I have a question for you.”

“Anything.”

“Did you look for my apartment to give me back my umbrella, or was there another reason?”

“I wanted to give you your umbrella since I forgot it on Friday. Andddddd because I wanted to ask you about your marital status,” I admitted.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Okay, because you showing up here first thing in the morning with an umbrella is wild shit.”

“Valid. But in my defense, you inviting me in and having a gift for me is right up there with wild shit.”

“Nahhhhh, don’t try to turn this around on me. You could’ve just given me the umbrella on Friday. You looked for me. You hunted me down—”

My face screwed up. “Okay, ‘hunted’ is a little far.”

“You out here pretending to be a meteorologist is a little far,” he joked, pointing to the window, where the sun was shining bright. “There’s not a cloud in the sky, yet you show up before ten o’clock on a Saturday with an umbrella.”

I glared at him. “I should’ve let it rain on your head.”

He laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I was going to head up the street to get something to eat. You want to come?”

“Oh, I’m not dressed for brunch,” I told him.

He looked me up and down. “You look good to me.”

I felt my cheeks flush.

“I’m changing my shirt, but I’m wearing this,” he continued, getting off the couch. “I just threw this shirt on because I’d just gotten out the shower when you started banging on my door like the police.”

I rolled my eyes. “I knocked like a normal person.”

“You knocked like I was getting evicted.”

“Whatever,” I called after him as he left the room.

When I was alone, I pulled out my cell phone.

Aaliyah:I have an update.

My heart went from hurting from Ahmad to hurting for Ahmad. The thought of him choosing to lie about a wife in order to reject me made me mad, embarrassed, and hurt my feelings. But the knowledge of his own heartbreak, his own healing journey, and his not being ready for a relationship made me love him more.

Not love as in in love. Love as in friendship love.

I bristled uncomfortably as the L-word snuck into my psyche. Because I didn’t mean that.

There were a lot of emotions that I needed to unpack, but hearing Ahmad out really helped. I felt better. And now that I knew where he was emotionally, romantically, and I didn’t feel completely rejected, we could go back to our friendship.

Nina:Text me the update. Don’t just announce the update!

I giggled quietly at Nina’s reply. Just as I was about to text, I heard footsteps coming down the hall.

“Checking on your next date?” Ahmad asked as he walked in with a navy-blue-and-white shirt with navy-and-white shoes to match.

“You look good,” I blurted out.

The words tumbled out of my mouth quicker than I realized, but it was the truth.

He made a face. “That was a dig at my wrinkled shirt, huh? You always got shit to say.”

My eyes widened. “Me?! That’s literally you! In the time that I’ve known you, not a day has gone by without you commenting on my outfits.”

“I didn’t say anything about you coming in here dressed like The Omen.”

It took me a second, and then I burst out laughing. “Okay, Lil’ Kim.”

“Come on. Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

I stopped by my apartment to drop off my shirt, and then we were on our way.

We joked our way out of our building and up a couple of blocks to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant called Miss Mama’s.

“When did they start serving brunch?” I wondered as we walked in the door.

“They’ve been doing it all summer,” Ahmad told me before he asked the hostess for a table for two.

As soon as we sat down, we reviewed the menu and then ordered.

“Your chicken last night must not have been like that if you’re ordering chicken this morning, too,” he pointed out.

“For somebody whose chicken is definitely not better than mine, you have a lot to say.”

“Who taught you how to cook?”

“My grandma. Who taught you?”

“My mom.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Will your mom be disappointed with you when she finds out my chicken kicked your chicken’s ass?”

“Yoooo, what is wrong with you?” He snickered, shaking his head. “You know, you’re pretty funny. You dress nice. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. I can’t understand why you can’t get a second date.”

My jaw dropped. “That was a low blow.”

He sat there with a self-satisfied grin.

I pointed at him. “You’re proud of that, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be.”

We spent the entire brunch going back and forth. And after the seriousness of our conversation in his apartment, the uninterrupted good time was welcome. It wasn’t until the waitress brought the check that it became a little awkward.

“One check or two?” the waitress asked.

“One,” Ahmad answered.

At the exact same time, I said, “Two.”

The waitress looked between us and then just slowly placed the bill on the table and walked away.

“I got this,” Ahmad offered, checking the total before placing his card down.

“You should let me pay,” I argued. “I popped up at your place unannounced and delayed your brunch. Let me pay.”

“No, I got you. I invited you to eat, so I’m paying.”

“Ahmad.”

“Aaliyah.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“Me?” he chuckled. “Nah, that’s you.”

The waitress came back to collect the payment, and then we were about to head out.

“Oh!” I stopped in my tracks.

Ahmad bumped into me from behind.

“Damn, Ahmad, you’re trying to run me over?” I joked, pushing his shoulder.

Amused, he grabbed me and forced me onto the sidewalk. “Why would you stop walking?”

“I just got a text saying that my dress has arrived.” I raised up on my toes and bounced. “It’s right up the street. I need to go try it on real quick. Do… you want to come?” I pointed to the next corner. “It’s right there.”

“Oh, shit, that’s close.” He lifted his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

We started walking farther from our apartment complex. There were more people out and about than when we’d walked to brunch. Ahmad had one hand on my shoulder and one on my hip, and he shifted me in front of him as we made our way down the sidewalk. It was a gentlemanly touch that was very on brand for him. But when the horde of people dissipated, he didn’t remove his hand from my hip immediately.

My entire body was hyperaware of his touch.

When his hand dropped away, I could still feel the heat from it through my yoga pants.

Not that I was negating his situation or what he had going on, but the man was sexy as hell. Mentally, I knew we were just friends. Emotionally, I knew he wasn’t trying to be with anyone. But when he touched me, my body wasn’t trying to acknowledge any of that.

“This is it,” I said as we approached the boutique.

With his hand on my hip again, he kind of pulled me into him as he reached around me and opened the door.

I sucked in a sharp intake of air. “Thank you.”

Marching in and trying to put some distance between the two of us, I made my way to the counter.

“Hi, Charlotte,” I greeted the owner of Charlotte’s Webb as I got closer to her.

Her eyes lit up. “Aaliyah!” Her eyes darted behind me, and her smile grew. “How are you?”

“I’m great! Can’t wait to see my birthday dress.”

“I can’t wait to see it on you.” She shifted her gaze to Ahmad again, so I knew she was waiting for an introduction.

“Charlotte, this is Ahmad. Ahmad, this is Charlotte.”

He reached his hand out toward her. “Hey, what’s up, Charlotte? Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” She looked between us with a twinkle in her eye. “You two look really good together.”

“Thanks,” he said.

I kept my mouth shut.

She turned around and grabbed the large garment bag that was on a rack behind her. “Okay, you two, follow me.” As we got to the back, she pointed to a chair in front of a huge mirror. “You can sit right over here,” she told Ahmad. “Aaliyah…” She went into the dressing room and hung the dress on a peg and then unzipped the bag. “If you need any help getting it on, I’ll be right out here.”

As soon as Charlotte walked out, I peeked at Ahmad. “It won’t take me long, and then we can leave.”

“Take your time,” he said, relaxing in the chair. “I’m curious about what’s in that big bag.”

I smiled and closed the door.

After I shimmied on the dress, I took a step back and looked at myself in the small mirror in the room with me.

I love it.

It was the perfect birthday dress.

“You good?” Ahmad asked. “You’ve been quiet for a minute.”

“I’m so, so, soooooooo good,” I called out to him over the door. “So, what are your plans for the day? I should’ve asked earlier.”

“I’m not doing anything except finishing organizing my albums and getting my living room back in order. Tonight, I’m linking up with Leon.”

“Tell Leon I said what’s up.”

“I definitely won’t do that.”

“Why are you trying to stand in between what Leon and I have?”

He laughed.

I did one more spin before I opened the door to look at the dress in the big mirror.

The moment I walked out, all the amusement left him. He sat up straight, and his lips parted as he took me in. “Wow.”

“Right?!” I squealed.

“You look…” He gawked unhurriedly as if he were committing me to memory. “What’s this for?”

“My birthday!”

“That makes sense. You look absolutely beautiful.”

Beaming, I turned and watched the way the dress moved in the mirror. When I caught his eye in the reflection and I saw the way he was looking at me, my breathing hitched.

“That was made for you!” Charlotte cheered, yanking my attention away from Ahmad.

“I love it,” I gushed. “It’s even better than I was expecting.”

As Charlotte excitedly ran down information I needed to know, I snuck a glance at Ahmad, who was still staring at me. When he noticed me noticing him, he didn’t look away. He held my gaze and forced me to be the one who looked away first.

That was a little harder to shake off than his touch.

When we left the store, Ahmad insisted on carrying my dress for me.

His phone started ringing in his pocket.

“I’ll take the dress. You get your phone,” I instructed.

“You just watch where you’re going,” he said, grabbing me and pulling me into him.

“You’re so annoying,” I complained, remaining tucked in his arm as the group of teens made their way past us.

When his phone started ringing again, I disengaged myself from him so he could answer it.

“Yo, what’s up, Leon?” he answered.

I wiggled my eyebrows. “Tell him I said hey!”

Ahmad shook his head, ignoring me. Then he twisted his lips. “That was Aaliyah. She said hey.” He paused. “No, she doesn’t want your number. Take that shit somewhere else. I’m not giving her your number either.” He started laughing. “We’re on the way back from the store. That’s it. Anyway, what’s up?” He looked at his watch. “Yeah, I can be ready early. But honestly, man, I can just meet you over there. You don’t—I know.” He sighed. “Aight, I’ll be ready. Give me an hour.”

When he slipped his phone back into his pocket, I just stared at him.

“Sooooooo…” I started. “You’re just not going to pass along my messages.”

“Stop playing,” he laughed. “Are you looking forward to your thirtieth birthday?”

“I am. Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with just changing the subject. We will be circling back.”

He grinned. “I have no doubt. So, are you looking forward to the party?”

“I am. All the RSVPs have come in. The caterer has been paid. My dinner dress is here. Really, I’m just waiting on one thing.”

“The boyfriend.”

“I was going to say my party dress, but damn, Ahmad.” I let out a little snicker. “Rude!”

“What? I thought that was a good guess!”

I shook my head. “You’re so full of shit.”

“How are things going on that front? You lined up your date for this week?”

“I actually have. We’ve been having good conversation on the app. We’ll see how that translates in person.”

“You have what? Three Fridays left?”

“Yeah, don’t remind me. What did you do for your thirtieth?”

“I went to Jamaica.”

“Did you have fun?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Yes.”

I elbowed him. “See, I knew you were for the streets.”

He shook his head. “Nah, nothing like that.”

I teased him the rest of the way back. When we got off the elevator on the third floor, he followed me to my place.

“Would you like to come in?” I asked.

“I would like that a lot. But Leon is about to be on his way, and I still gotta get my shit together.”

I nodded. “I understand.” I reached for my dress, and he held it out of my grasp.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to carry your dress in for you. I just meant I couldn’t come in and stay.”

“It’s too late,” I laughed, reaching up again. Grabbing at his arm, I tried to pull it down so I could get to the hanger. “I’ve rescinded the invitation.”

“It’s too late. No take-backs,” he returned, amused. “I guess it’s my dress now.”

I started trying to tickle him under his arms, but it didn’t work.

Chuckling at my feeble attempts, he used his free arm to wrap around me and keep me away from the arm holding the dress. It was about the third jump that I noticed his eyes dipped to my chest. My nipples were hard, straining against the spandex. My body was pressed against his, and although I was legitimately trying to get the dress, I was suddenly very aware of how close we were, how good he smelled, how strong his body felt, and how firm his grip was on me.

His face hovered over mine, and his eyes bored into me with such a fierce intensity that I didn’t know what was coming next.

Breathing heavily, we stared at each other. There was so much longing, so much passion, and so much unchecked desire between us that I was certain he was about to kiss me.

My next-door neighbor loudly came out of his apartment with two garbage bags. We startled away from each other as if we’d just gotten caught doing something we shouldn’t. I stared at my neighbor because I didn’t—I couldn’t—look Ahmad in his eyes.

My heart was racing. My door was against my back, and I was thankful for something solid to hold on to.

“Good afternoon,” the neighbor greeted us with a curt nod.

Ahmad and I spoke in unison and then stared at each other until the neighbor disappeared through the door leading to the stairwell.

“I should, um… I should probably go get ready,” Ahmad said, breaking the silence.

His breathing seemed to be just as irregular as mine. He held the dress out to me, and I was scared to grab it. I was scared to touch him. I couldn’t even hide how my breasts were excited by the moment we’d just shared. I was fortunate he couldn’t see other parts of me.

I forced myself to speak. “Yeah, you should,” I agreed. Timidly, I reached out for the dress, and our fingers brushed. I sucked in a quick breath as we shocked each other. I brought the dress to my chest to cover myself up. “I hope you have a good time.”

He took a step back. “Thank you. I hope you have a good night as well. I enjoyed you today.”

As he was talking, my eyes dropped down to the prominent print I saw etched in his gray sweatpants. Three whole seconds ticked by before I forced my eyes back to his face.

“I enjoyed you, too,” I said breathily.

Did he see that? I know he saw that. Oh. My. God.

“See you Friday?” he asked.

Lifting my hand in a wave, I confirmed, “See you Friday.”

For my date.

I’ll see you Friday for my date.

I had to repeat it a couple of times in my head to try to force the print outline from haunting my thoughts.