YAYA
Ezra.
That was his name. It fit him well, too. I knew his name already, though. I’d heard it during the first open mic I came to when I hadn’t even planned to stay that long. I was just tagging along with Dianna and Erin, trying to shake off a rough clinical rotation and a tighter-than-usual phone call with my parents. But then he hit the mic and I couldn’t move.
Tonight, I’d felt Ezra's piece in my chest like he pressed his hand there and held me still. And now, there I was, walking the streetlights with him like I hadn’t just told my Mom I was going home after dinner with my girls. I was out being grown like I wasn’t supposed to be reviewing med charts and getting to bed before midnight. Like I wasn’t a whole nursing student with too much on my plate and not enough hours in the day.
But Ezra had that kind of energy that felt dangerously intense in a good way. And fine? Please.
He was tall and muscular with shoulders that stretched the sleeves of his white tee just right. There were tattoos inked from his neck down both arms and his skin was smooth caramel, rich like the earth. And his right eye, the one that worked, held this heavy calm to it. The other was clouded, unmoving, and somehow it made him even finer. It made me want to learn the story while tracing it with my fingers.
“Still wit’ me?” he asked, voice deep and slightly amused.
I blinked and looked up at him. “Sorry. Was in my head.”
Ezra nodded. “I figured. You got that thoughtful look.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Like you overthink shit, but ya gut already knows the answer.”
I laughed softly. “Wow. You analyze every stranger this fast?”
“Only the ones I might write about later.” That made my cheeks warm, and I looked ahead at the sidewalk, trying not to let my smile give me away. “So, back to you comin' to the lounge three times.”
“The first time was by accident. The second? Not so much.”
“And the third?”
I bit my lip. “Let’s just say I was hoping you’d show up again.”
He didn’t respond right away. Just looked at me with his good eye catching the light in a way that made my stomach flutter. “I respect the honesty,” he nodded.
“I don’t have time for bullshit.” That made him laugh, low and rough like it came from deep in his chest. I liked the sound way too much. “So what do you do when you’re not interrupting girls’ nights and spitting soul-wrecking poems?” I asked, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.
He scratched his beard. “I write. Paint.”
“Paint?”
“Murals. Not as much anymore, though.”
“Damn,” I said, eyebrows raised. “You just… got all the talents, huh?”
He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Just tryna stay sane.”
I nodded. I got that. More than I cared to admit.
We walked in silence for a few steps. The kind of silence that wasn’t awkward. It just was. Crickets sang somewhere close and the air still held onto the heat from earlier, warm against my skin. My dress clung to me a little, but not in a way I minded. I felt alive. I felt good.
“What you do?” Ezra asked, tilting his head toward me.
“Nursing. Pediatric track.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you a baby-saver.”
I laughed. “I guess you could say that. Still got a little ways to go.”
“That’s dope,” he said, and I could tell he meant it. “Takes a strong person to go into that field.”
I shrugged. “Takes a tired person too and a lot of caffeine.”
“You ain’t gettin’ much sleep?”
I looked at him, surprised at the question. Most guys would’ve followed up with something about nurses in tight scrubs or long hours. Not Ezra. He looked like he genuinely wanted to know so I answered honestly. “Some,” I said quietly. “Not enough.”
“You gotta protect ya energy, Yavanni.”
The way he said my name slowed time. “I try to.” We finally reached the corner and I could see my girls waiting by my Lexus parked down the block. I wasn’t ready to reach it, though. “Can I ask you something?” I said, stopping at the crosswalk.
He turned to face me fully. “Anything.”
“What happened to your eye?”
He didn’t flinch or look away. He just took a breath. “Long story. One I might tell ya… if this ain’t the last time we walk together.”
I nodded, appreciating the honesty in that. No deflection. No fake mystery. “I like your vibe,” I said before I could second guess myself.
His lips twitched. “I like yours too. Been tryna figure you out since that first night.”
“Oh, you really noticed me, huh?”
“Girl, I could draw you from memory,” he said, and the way his voice dropped made my knees feel soft. “Every time you laughed tonight? That shit made me wanna drop the mic.”
I swallowed. “Smooth.”
“Honest.”
I didn’t know what came over me, but I reached out and touched his wrist, fingers grazing the ink on his skin. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t even move. He just let me trace the black lines like I had a right to. “You should text me,” I said softly.
“I gotchu.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to me. I typed my name and number in, added a little heart next to it, then gave it back.
“You gonna write about me for real?” I teased.
Ezra leaned in just a little, close enough that I could smell soap, sweat, and something woodsy I couldn’t place. “Already started,” he said.
And just like that, I knew I was in trouble.