Chapter Fourteen
Ny’Airy Buckle
By Friday night, all of my careful logic had started to feel a little less solid.
I stood in front of my mirror one last time, smoothing my hands over the black dress I’d chosen for the mayor’s ball.
It hugged my waist, dipped low enough in the front to make me feel dangerous, and flowed around my legs like liquid satin.
I had gotten my hair pinned in soft curls, my makeup was done light giving my bold red lipstick the spotlight, and the diamond earrings the sales rep insisted I purchase caught the light every time I moved.
I looked expensive, like I belonged somewhere fancy.
I didn’t look like a woman who had spent the last two years surviving heartbreak and eating my feelings.
I looked like the woman who broke hearts and left men yearning.
When the doorbell rang. My stomach flipped so hard I had to steady myself.
I walked out of the room feeling surer of myself with each step towards the door.
I grabbed my purse, keys, and cellphone placing them all in the bag.
When I opened the door, Cozart was standing there in a black tux that fit him like it had been tailored by God.
His shoulders were broad, jawline sharp, and the sight of him made my knees weak.
How did he manage to look as good in a suit as he looked when he was shirtless and wearing sweats?
One hand rested in his pocket, the other handheld a large bouquet full of beautiful, long stemmed, red roses. It had to be more than two dozen.
“Oh my, these are beautiful,” I said as I grabbed the bouquet with both hands so I wouldn’t drop it.
“Yes, you are,” he said as his eyes traveled slowly over me, from my hair to my heels, his mouth curved into a slow, appreciative smile.
“Damn, NY’Airy,” he said softly, looking me over like I was the only thing worth seeing.
“You look breathtaking. You are stunning baby girl,” he complimented me as his eyes shone brightly.
I began to blush as I turned away from the door so I could go inside and place the flowers in a vase.
“Thank you,” I said over my shoulder. I tried to appear nonchalant, but my palms were sweaty, my stomach was full of butterflies, and I was smiling so hard my cheeks were aching.
I took a few deep breaths to collect myself as I placed the flowers in the vase.
Then he walked back to where he stood by the door.
“You ready?” he asked me as he held his hand out.
It felt like he was asking me if I was ready for more than just the gala. I dismissed that thought the minute it crossed my mind. I only saw him as a friend, and I was glad that he saw me the same way. It certainly took the pressure off of things.
After locking the door, I placed my hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around mine gently before leading me down the front steps. When we made it to his car, a Ford Mustang Mach-E, he opened the door and reached for my bag.
“I’ll take that,” he said.
“I can carry my own bag.”
“I know you can.” He smiled. “I just want to hold it for you while you get inside of the car,” he explained plainly.
I hesitated for a second before handing it over.
It was such a small gesture, but it caught me off guard.
Larry had always opened my door and grabbed my purse whenever I got inside of the car so I would be hands free getting in.
For a split second, the memory of my ex threatened to ruin my evening.
Cozart cleared his throat dramatically bringing me back to the present.
I handed him the bag then got inside and put on my seatbelt.
When he was inside of the car, he placed my bag on my lap and turned to me, “Now before we leave, I want you to know that I spent twenty minutes watching how-to videos on TikTok trying to learn how to tie this damn tie,” he admitted shyly.
He looked adorable and unsure, nothing like the gym powerhouse who knew his way around every piece of equipment in Brick and Co and knew every muscle that every exercise targeted.
“So, you are telling me you didn’t know how to put on a tie?
Probably because you don’t ever have on shirt, I’m surprised you know how to put one of those on,” I quipped causing him to give me a stank look.
I laughed loudly and the stress of the date melted from my shoulders.
There was no need to be nervous, he was the same guy that I joked with every day at the gym, he was just wearing more clothes than usual.
“I will have you know I’ve worn a suit two times in my life.
Once for my prom and once for my mom’s funeral.
As you stated, my line of work doesn’t really require a suit and tie, I’m more of a Nike sweats for work type of guy,” he puffed his chest out proudly.
“I was determined not to call my father, so I watched an old white man, and one pimple faced teenager, then boom, I figured it out, it’s perfect, isn’t it?
doesn’t even look like I struggled with it?
” He asked as he modeled the tie. He did his best super model, stoic face and looked over his shoulder while holding the tie up, I choked on my spit, I was laughing so hysterically. I had to grab his arm to steady myself.
“There she goes,” he smiled at me.
“What?”
“That laugh I adore. I’ve been trying to hear it all week.
I have heard your polite laugh. The one you do when someone makes a lame joke, and you don’t want them to feel bad.
I’ve also heard your full laugh, the one you do when you just can’t contain yourself.
I told myself that if I could get at least one of those full laughs out of you then our date was successful.
I accomplished my mission.” He smiled at me before turning to the road, starting the ignition, and pulling away from the curb.
I felt a slight flutter in my belly as the smile slowly disappeared from my face.
I didn’t want this feeling, not with him.
I hated that he was pulling it out of me.
What annoyed me the most is I had seen him flirting with one of his many groupies.
This wasn’t him flirting, this wasn’t him trying to be slick, this was Cozart being honest. I rolled my eyes pretending to be annoyed while my insides were mixing around like a lava lamp.
“You are so irritating,” I shook my head and turned to the window so he wouldn’t see the blush that I knew was on my cheeks.
“I’m irritating, but you’re smiling,” he noted without looking in my direction. He was way too good at this. I hated that he was right, I just had to keep reminding myself that I didn’t look at him this way. He was my trainer and my friend. I didn’t want him to be anything more.
“I almost canceled tonight,” I told him honestly as I looked down at my hands.
“Why?” he asked simply.
I looked over at him, “Because I haven’t been out with a man since my ex-husband.
I’m so out of the loop, I don’t know how to do this.
I’ve forgotten how to date. How to flirt.
How to say cute shit back within just the right amount of time to keep a man wanting more.
I didn’t want you to be bored and wish you would have never agreed to take me to the ball,” I shrugged.
I wanted to be honest so he wouldn’t expect me to be like one of the many women that swooned when he was within a two-mile radius.
“You never forget how to do something that comes naturally. Us being here is no different than us being in the park and me yelling at you to do another rep because I know you can, even though your body is shaking and telling you, you can’t.
It doesn’t matter if the setting you are still Ny’Airy and I am still Co.
I don’t think I could ever be bored around you” he shrugged shyly and my heart began to quicken.
“You are too smooth for your own damn good,” I groaned and placed my head in my hands.
“So, because I told the truth, I’m being smooth?” he laughed loudly.
“You can’t help it. You take women out for sport,” I shrugged.
“I haven’t taken a woman on a date since my ex-wife,” he whispered.
His confession settled between us. Neither one of us spoke for several seconds.
He reached over to the radio and turned the volume up slightly.
The smooth sounds of Brian Culbertson filled the car and I exhaled in harmony.
I was expecting him to be listening to Kodak’s newest mixtape or some other loud head banging ruckus that I would have to suffer through.
This wasn’t that. It was soothing and a beautiful sound with no words allowed your own thoughts time to get caught up.
“Not what you expected, huh?” he chuckled.
“Am I that easy to read?” I laughed as I placed my hands over my face shyly.
“For me you are. You were expecting some mumble rap foolishness, weren’t you? Something like Finesse Two Times or Belly Gang Kushington?” he taunted me.
“I absolutely was, I’m not too proud to admit it. You strike me as the type to listen to ‘bitches ain’t shit’ music all day,” I shrugged and he laughed.
“I know sometimes I don’t act like it, but my mama raised me,” he admitted honestly.
For the first time since meeting him I wondered if maybe there was more to Cozart Walker than muscles, women, bad decisions, and no shirts.
Just maybe he was a guy that could do right for the right woman.
I had heard the saying men act right for the woman they want more times than I could count, but I figured that it was bullshit, just another ploy to get a woman to jump through hoops and do back flips on the dick in hopes of being the woman a man wants.
Maybe there was some truth in the saying.