12. Asaiah
Onesti:
I'm wondering if I should tell my friends I'll be going on a date or hanging with a buddy this week. *eye and thinking emojis*
Hmm, I think the kiss we shared is more than enough reason for you to know what to tell your friends.
"Not to pry, but who's got you smiling like a Cheshire cat?" Normani asks, forcing me to break the repeated reading of Onesti's message.
I'm embarking on a working lunch with Normani and a few other leadership team members, and I'm just returning from washing my hands to eat.
"Dang, you nosy, boss lady."
"Let me find out something other than ledgers and cash flow is keeping your interest," Wendell chimes in, grinning.
Wendell is the man in charge of our IT department and spends most of his time plotting ways to lick or sniff the lining of Normani's panties despite her marital status. Wendell gives a whole new meaning to the kiss ass making our encounters brief most days. Between the daily bow tie Wendell wears and the matching suspenders keeping his protruding stomach in check, Wendell wouldn't have a chance with Normani if she weren't married.
Returning to my seat, I ignore Wendell and type a response to Onesti.
Me:
Seeing as we're already conversant with the outline of each other's lips, I think it's safe for you to inform them of your impending date.
The jitters from the image of Onesti slamming into my mind increase my pulse and heart rate. Removing the lid from the container in front of me, I bow my head and utter a brief prayer of gratitude, which isn't solely about the meal I'm preparing to consume.
Dear God,
Thank you for this food that I'm about to receive. Let it be nourishment for my body. Pull out any impurities. Oh, and God, while you're passing out blessings, please remember I'm overdue. While I know that I can't place a stipulation on you, I'm asking if you can increase your favor in my life. I, Asaiah Harrison, am interested in a woman. I'm scared that something will go wrong so please remember me.
Amen.
"Alright, everyone, even though we have our lunch, we must work through unless none of us plan on leaving before seven," Normani announces on the heels of me ending my prayer and petition.
Grumbles sound around the room because the thought of being stuck in this conference room for a lengthy time is the last thing anyone present wants to hear. Strategizing not only our plans for next year but also discussing the budget can be a daunting task. Yet, here we are, forging ahead while everyone tries to contain their chewing so as not to offend anyone.
"You're up, Wendi-Lou," Normani directs, prompting the next person on today's agenda when silence permeates the air.
Wendi-Lou, a middle-aged black woman unable to stomach these meetings or our boss, pushes her kale greens aside. Dusting the nonexistent crumbs from her hands, Wendi-Lou prepares to speak after a small sigh I decipher from the sharp intake of air she takes. I immediately start praying when Wendi-Lou opens her mouth and utters her first sentence.
"Time is of the essence if we expect to recruit, train, and put into production individuals who won't threaten Ms. Normani's vision.”
God, please let a vapor of smoke smack Wendi-Lou in her face so she'll consider that Normani isn't in the business of being pushed around.
* * *
"Yo, A, what's good? I ain't heard from your ass." Uriah's call came in just after I crossed the threshold of my foyer at home that evening.
"Just cooling. I had a long day of meetings, so I'm just walking through the door. I gotta figure out what I'm cooking for dinner."
"Oh, then my timing is perfect. Ma made a boatload of food and told me to call you to come eat."
"What's all over there?" I ask, dropping my messenger bag before turning around and exiting the front door because it really doesn't matter since Mama Layton can throw down in the kitchen.
"Like it matters. Get over here," Mama Layton's voice rings out in the background, letting me know Uriah has me on speaker.
"On my way, Mama." Disconnecting the call, I put a little pep in my step when rumblings begin in my stomach.
Once my door is secure, I deposit my keys in my pocket before shifting left to right and jogging off the porch. Moving past the driver's side of my SUV, I leave the property line for my house and head toward my destination. Mama and Pop Layton live at the end of the cul-de-sac where my home is, so it takes me about five minutes to reach their back door. Lucking up on a property for sale on their street had been nothing short of divine intervention. Being the incredible people that they are, I often forget the close proximity of Mama and Pop Layton because they never invade my space.
"Whew. The Lord is kind," I declare as the aroma of varying dishes pierces my nose.
"Mhm. Give me a hug before you let the food get you in trouble," Mama Layton insists, extending her arms for me to walk into her embrace.
The minute Mama Layton's arms lock around my waist, a tranquil feeling flows through my extremities from experiencing the affection this woman selflessly gives me.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think your big ass is trying to push up on my woman," Pop Layton interjects a second after I step out of Mama Layton's arms.
"I don't want no smoke with you, old man," I joke before giving Pop Layton a one-arm hug.
"Trust, I know. I ain't gonna ever be so old where I can't knock a nigga on his ass about what belongs to me," Pop Layton says.
"You better stop all that cussing before I call Pastor Reese," Mama Layton warns.
"Tuh. Imagine me fearing Lorenzo, woman. The only man who can make me shake in my boots is the creator of Heaven and Earth," Pop Layton adds.
"Don't start, y'all. I'm hungry," Uriah chimes in, entering the kitchen while rubbing his stomach.
"You were on my mind today, Asaiah. I made you some oxtails," Mama Layton informs.
My chest expands, and merriment dances within the contour of my face from the knowledge of the meat Mama Layton makes especially for me.
Thank you for family, God. Even though we're not blood-related, it doesn't get any more real than these people.
* * *
"Oh wow, I haven't been bowling in years. This is gonna be fun," Onesti says, smiling when I pull into the parking lot for the bowling alley.
After our last encounter, I came to two conclusions… I didn't want to run from pursuing Onesti, and future dates had to be out of our homes. The battle to not allow my hands to run freely over Onesti's body had been a test, and I'm positive I'll fail if placed in that position again.
"Indeed. Hold tight," I say after parking and exiting to assist Onesti out of the vehicle.
My adrenaline is running wild, and my body is teeming with energy I'm struggling to contain when I open the passenger door.
You got this, man. This is just a date with the woman you're feeling and trying to capture more time with. Breathe, Asaiah.
Unable to help myself, I lean in the car and place a light peck on Onesti's lips, causing my dick to twitch in my jeans.
You're playing with fire, dude.
"Mm," Onesti softly moans.
Disconnecting my lips from hers, I back up to allow Onesti room to get out and me a minute to calm myself before this date goes left. When Onesti exits the vehicle, my eyes roam her body, and Ludacris featuring Nicki Minaj echoes in my mind, causing me to fight the urge to bob my head.
Man, bye. First off, she ain't your chick, so stop flexing, not to mention the suburban neighborhood you picked her up from, contradicting the hood persona Ludacris was rapping about.
Ignoring the statement echoing in my mind, I mentally photograph Onesti, storing her image for a future date. The dark denim jeans are hugging Onesti's slim-thick thighs, making me wonder if the manufacturer hand-stitched them specifically for Onesti. The white blouse on her top half has the first two buttons undone, making my mouth water at the peek-a-boo game I want to play with her breasts, not to mention the nude heels resting on her feet that make her plump derriere sit up high on her backside.
"Since when did those fit into the casual parameters I set for this evening?" I ask, raising my left brow while smirking.
"They're comfortable, and I can do the same thing in these that I can in tennis shoes," she says, shrugging.
"Lucky for you, you're about to change into more appropriate shoes for this experience. I'll buy you a pair of footies so you don't have to worry about putting your bare feet in footwear that others have worn." Extending my hand, I bite my lip to prevent the moan from escaping when a jolt of something foreign surges through my body when our hands connect.
Unable to form words that won't allow me to express my need to keep Onesti in my life forever, I guide us toward the front entrance. Onesti's hand in mine somehow has me feeling the comfort and peace I have yet to experience with a woman other than Mama Layton. My chest is tightening and expanding with every step we take, and my nerves are firing on all cylinders. Dating isn't something I have appreciated or given much consideration to because of the stressors I have from my parents. Yet at this moment, with Onesti, the desire and urge to allow myself to experience something other than sexual pleasure envelops me with the grip of a bear hug.
"Now I'm going to forewarn you, I'm good at this, so I'll do my best not to rub your nose in my skills once we're done," Onesti warns when we enter the building, breaking me out of my thoughts.
A smirk upturns my mouth when my eyes connect with the cocky grin on Onesti's lips, causing me to goad her a little.
"Oh yeah? Do you want to place a friendly wager on who wins?"
Onesti's head starts bobbing, and her fingers snap at the sound of Kelly Price echoing around the room.
"I'm game," she agrees before her gaze roams around the room.
The bowling alley is loud and teeming with patrons engaging in league and pleasure play. Just in front of us, a group of people appear to be involved in a bowling tournament, judging by the presence of their logo shirts. Seeing two older women standing at the lanes, appearing to taunt one another, causes me to chuckle low before I focus back on Onesti.
"Okay, I'll let you set the parameters. In the meantime, let's take care of the logistics."
Heading to the man at the main counter, I pull out my wallet to pay for our games and shoes. "Good evening. I need a single lane with three rounds of play. I also need shoes for me and my lady, along with a pair of socks."
"Gotcha. What size?" the man asks.
"I need an eight, please," Onesti requests.
"Ten for me, please," I add.
Once the logistical part of the night has been taken care of and we've gotten balls and shoes on, I rub my hands together, peering intently at Onesti. "So, what are we playing for?"
"Your heart," Onesti teases before cracking up, and warmth fills me instantly upon hearing the merriment from her laughter.
Joy bubbles in her humor and shines in her eyes, causing me to swallow over the burning desire to keep experiencing moments with this woman.
"Unlike that sad-ass ninja, you will never have to sacrifice your integrity to own my heart. All I need is reciprocation, but seriously, what's the wager? We have three rounds of play, so how do we want to do it?"
"The loser has to buy coffee and lunch for the winner for two weeks," Onesti declares with twinkling eyes.
"Hm. Is that it?" I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Oh, that's not steep enough for you? Okay, then throw in breakfast too."
"Okay, let me make sure I understand. The loser has to buy coffee, breakfast, and lunch for the winner for two weeks. Is that correct?" I ask, smirking when I see a familiar face coming toward us.
"Yep," Onesti confirms, letting the p pop.
"You're on, Ms. Onesti." Extending my hand so we can shake on it, I smile widely when Onesti places her hand in mine, sealing our deal.
"What's good, Asaiah? I thought y'all tournament isn't until next week," my boy Moses says, causing Onesti's forehead to wrinkle.
"It is. This is for pleasure. Onesti, this is one of my best friends, Moses. Mo, this is Onesti," I introduce while fighting the urge to laugh when the lines on Onesti's forehead increase.
"Wait, what is he talking about?" Onesti asks.
"Oh, Asaiah didn't tell you he's part of a bowling league?" Moses interjects before I can, and Onesti's eyes balloon.
"Man, that's not fair. I was getting my mouth set for victory," Onesti replies, pouting.
"I'm open to negotiations," I tease, smirking.