YAYA
“Y o u h a v e n ’ t b e e n to Sunday dinner in over two months, Yavanni.”
My mother’s voice came through the phone sharp enough to slice through the thick fog of my exhaustion. I pressed the speaker icon with one hand and fumbled through my bag for lip gloss with the other as I power-walked down Talbot Street.
“I know. I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy for your family?”
“It’s not that,” I sighed. “Clinical’s been on my neck. I’ve been studying, and working twelve-hour shifts, and one of the peds kids coded. I’m tired, Mom. I’m just trying to stay afloat.”
She went quiet for a second. That guilt-trip silence she’d perfected years ago. I could practically hear her folding her arms on the other end. “So… you’re not just avoiding us because of some man?” she asked, her voice dipped in suspicion.
I almost laughed. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me. You sound different. That dreamy, flustered thing women do when they’re in love or about to be. Your father said you were glowing when he last saw you.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing the street. “Daddy told you that?”
“Yes. We think you’re distracted.”
“I’m not having this conversation in the middle of the sidewalk,” I muttered, spotting the restaurant up ahead.
“So it is a man.” I paused. My throat tightened unexpectedly. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I didn’t. I just exhaled slowly. “Stay focused, Yavanni. Graduation and your exam are quickly approaching.” And then she hung up.
I spotted my girls before I even made it to the hostess. Erin was in the back corner, wearing oversized shades indoors and sipping something pink with a straw, while Dianna waved both hands above her head like I was a long-lost cousin at a cookout.
“There she is!” Dianna yelled as I approached. “Late, glowy, and mysterious. Sit your ass down.”
“Hey strangers,” I grinned, sliding into the booth.
Erin pushed her glasses up and leaned in. “No. Hey you. Miss Poof! Vanished on us.”
“I’ve been drowning in nursing school hell,” I said, flagging the server for a glass of water. “And my parents are on my back. I really haven’t had space to breathe.”
Dianna narrowed her eyes. “But you have had time for that fine-ass poet, huh?”
I smirked. “Here we go.”
“Because you disappeared into some love story like a Pinterest post!” Erin accused. “And we haven’t had updates in a while. I feel like I missed a whole season of a show I was binge-watching.”
I laughed, loud and real. “Okay, okay. I’ll spill.” They leaned in closer. “Ezra is…” I started. “Everything. He's hood but sweet, soulful and talented. He writes these poems that slice through you like they know your secrets.”
Dianna clutched her heart dramatically. “I knew that man had soul ties in his beard.”
Erin nodded. “Continue.”
I paused, fingers toying with the edge of my napkin. “We’ve been seeing each other a lot. Texts. Calls. Dates. Nights in. Sex that should probably be illegal.” Both girls let out synchronized gasps. “But more than that,” I continued, quieter now. “It’s emotional. Like… he sees me. All of me. And he doesn’t try to fix me. Just… holds space.”
“That’s rare,” Erin said seriously.
“I know. And… I’m falling fast.”
They both stared at me for a beat. “Wait,” Dianna said slowly. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “I just know when he looks at me, I feel calm and like I don’t have to be something I’m not.”
Dianna reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m happy for you.”
I smiled a little. “Thank you.”
“But…” she added, reading my face. “Something’s off, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “I missed his open mic night the other night. It was an important night. The one that could’ve launched something major.”
“You didn’t go?”
I shook my head. “Clinical had me locked down. I couldn’t get out of it. Plus, I had my head buried in books.”
“Did he understand?” Dianna asked.
“He said he did,” I replied. “And I believe him. But ever since, the vibe’s been… different. Not bad. Just… off. Our texts feel shorter. Calls don’t last as long. We’ve both been busy, but…”
“You feel the shift,” Erin finished.
“Exactly.” The server dropped off our food, but none of us reached for it right away. “I just feel stretched thin,” I admitted. “My program is winding down and shit is getting real and my parents are pushing me about my career. And I’m tryna be a present girlfriend if that’s even what I am, but it’s like… something’s always slipping.”
“You ever tell him all that?” Dianna asked.
“Not really. I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses.”
“Girl,” Erin said, leveling me with a look. “He likes you. Not some flawless, always-available version. You gotta let him see the mess too.”
“I know,” I said softly. “I just don’t want to lose this before it’s fully grown.”
“You won’t,” Dianna followed up. “Not if it’s real.”
And I believed her but that didn’t stop the knot in my chest from tightening every time I thought about Ezra.
T h e n i g h t a i r was soft and sticky as we stepped out of the restaurant, streetlights humming above us, cars rolling slowly down Talbot Street like they had nowhere to be. Dianna kissed both my cheeks and adjusted her jean jacket. “Next time, don’t wait so long to come up for air, okay?”
“Promise,” I said, hugging her tight.
“You better,” Erin added, keys jingling in her hand. “And tell your poet bae we wanna meet him officially and we’re expecting autographed books when he blows up.”
I laughed, shaking my head as we parted ways. But the second I slid into my car, the humor faded into something quieter. Something I hadn’t wanted to sit in all night. That feeling. That off thing between me and Ezra. The missed connections. The slow shift from eager texts to “call you later” replies. The low hum of something unsaid.
I pressed his name on my phone before I could overthink it and put it on speaker as I pulled out of the parking lot. He picked up on the second ring.
“What up?” His voice was warm but quiet like he’d just exhaled a long breath before answering.
I smiled despite myself. “Hey. You busy?”
“Nah,” he said. “Just writin’. Drinkin’ a lil' bit. Chillin’.” I imagined him shirtless, legs spread with a pen in one hand and Hennessy in the other. That damn eye of his, sharp and always watching. “How was ya girls’ night?” he asked, after a pause.
I chuckled. “Messy, loud and therapeutic. Dianna said you probably got soul ties in your beard.”
Ezra laughed low and rough, the kind of laugh that slid down my spine like honey. “She ain’t wrong.” Silence sat between us for a beat too long and then his voice came through softer now, “I miss you, Yaya.”
I closed my eyes and gripped the wheel tighter. “I miss you too, babe.”
“Then come show me,” he said, voice dipping just low enough to make my thighs clench.
I didn’t need to be told twice. Twenty minutes later, I was standing in front of his apartment door with my heart thudding in my throat. The lock clicked and then the door swung open. And there he was. Shirtless with grey sweats hanging low on his hips and a half-drained glass of Hennessy in one hand.
He didn’t even get a word out before I dropped my purse to the floor and launched myself into him. Our mouths met hard, messy and deep. Hands everywhere; mine in his locs and his gripping my ass as he pulled me into him so tight I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. I moaned into his mouth, biting his lip, and he growled low, backing me into the wall with his body pressed against mine like he was trying to fuse us together.
“I miss you so much,” I murmured against his mouth.
“I been missin' you too,” he breathed, placing his glass down onto the kitchen table and slipping a hand up under my dress. “All of you.”
I pushed him toward the couch, unbuttoning the front of my dress as he dropped his sweatpants. I straddled him and his hands gripped my thighs tight, fingers digging into flesh like he couldn’t get enough. I kissed him like I was starving as I licked, sucked, and moaned into his mouth.
“You gon’ ride this dick?” he asked, his voice low and deep.
“Yes,” I breathed, lining him up and then I sank down on him. Slowly. Both of us groaned at the same time. His head dropped back, mouth open, his grip on my hips flexing like he was trying to breathe through it.
“Fuck, Yaya…” I rolled my hips slowly at first, grinding deep, watching his face tighten every time I clenched my muscles around him. He looked up at me like I was heaven and hell wrapped in one. “You feel so good,” he groaned. “You missed this dick?”
“Yes, baby, yes,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss him. “I’m sorry I missed your set.”
He kissed me harder. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad for the shit.”
My rhythm picked up, faster now, bouncing on him, riding with purpose. “I really wanted to be there,” I breathed, nails scraping down his chest.
“You here now,” he growled, thrusting up into me, meeting me stroke for stroke.
I rode him hard with my hands braced on his chest, locs falling into my face and sweat gathering between my breasts as we moved like we were trying to make up for lost time. He fucked me from beneath, eyes locked on mine, teeth gritted and fingers digging into my ass.
“You 'bout to cum, ain’t you?” he asked, voice tight.
“Yessss! Ezraaaa!”
He sat up suddenly, arm around my back, slamming into me from underneath with power, precision, and ownership. “Cum for me, Yaya,” he whispered into my neck.
I cried out, loud and ragged, clenching around him as the orgasm ripped through me. He followed a second later, cursing low, thick inside me, holding me tight as we both trembled. We sat there after, tangled and breathless with our lips brushing each other’s skin. And for the first time in days, the off feeling was gone. All that was left was us.