Chapter 3
THREE
Fatigue.
Exhaustion.
Both heavy on my radar and kicking my ass.
The crummy crust I extracted from the corners of my eyes as I dug my knuckles into the crevices of my face scraped my skin causing a temporary burning sensation.
Frustration was birthed, swiftly, at the sound of my bell dinging for the second time.
To my dismay, I was the only person home and there wasn’t a soul available to grab the door or see who deemed it necessary to pay me a visit so early in the fucking morning.
The sun hadn’t fully rose. It was still peeking from the earth’s core. The birds were still chirping, starring in nature’s melody. The purplish-pink glow covered the sky in anticipation of a bright, blue conclusion after the sun settled within the next hour.
“Fuck,” I groaned, tossing my legs over the side of my bed and settling them on the floor.
I could hardly gather my bearings before I was off and on my way to the door. The quicker I reached it, the quicker I could send whoever the fuck felt the need to ring it back to wherever the hell they’d crawled from. They weren’t welcomed here.
My morning wood never ceased a moment to showcase its readiness.
A few steps ahead of me and threatening to split the seams of my briefs as we made our way through the length of my home, we finally reached the corridor.
By the time we discovered the front door, it began to deflate.
A quick peek at the cameras a few feet away was the initial plan but the sight of the feminine silhouette peeking through the frosty coating of my front door paralyzed me.
“This nigga,” I hissed with a shake of my head, already mentally preparing for the words I’d lend my brother due to the presence of one of his flings –and so damn early in the morning, nevertheless.
Prior to my arrival, he’d been housesitting, and I was beginning to think that was a mistake. My home had become his home in the last few years, and it was becoming more obvious as the hours passed. I felt like a stranger in my own shit.
Pulling the handle, I gathered the words for the lost beauty whom I was sure to find behind my door. “He–” I managed before silence coated the air, inside and out.
“Good morning,” the angelic figure breathed slowly as she released.
In total control of her words, obviously contemplating before she spoke, Kit removed the ringlets from her face so that it was no longer covered and in full view.
Gazing into her umber-colored eyes, I tilted my head in an attempt to comprehend.
Just a few hours prior, she was adamant about my disappearance, yet she was at my doorstep looking as if it was five in the evening and not six in the morning.
“Are you going to let me in or keep me out here?” She continued.
“Why are you here?” I questioned. Never one to trip or get in my feelings, I was simply perplexed by her presence and wanted clarity.
“I wanted to know if the offer still stood… if you’d still have me?”
With pleasure, I suppressed. “Ki… Fuck,” I chastised, “Listen, I’m not keen to the idea of walking around my house on eggshells. If it’s the money you’re worried about working off, then turn around and go home, now. Consider it a gift.”
“It’s you I’m worried about, Fohr.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as a dent appeared in her bottom lip. She was chewing on it, possibly a nervous habit. Whatever the case, I noticed and noted.
“And, I’m worried about you. Your discomfort isn’t a good look. I can’t accept it here or anywhere, honestly.”
“Last night wasn’t a good night for me. My discomfort hardly had anything to do with you, personally.
That was all me. Why am I still outside?
” She couldn’t help herself and had to ask.
It was obvious that Kit was accustomed to having her way.
Maybe an ex or her father had conditioned her to believe that she could have anything her heart desired and she could.
Silence etched away at the invisible tension between the two of us as our eyes danced around one another’s. The sun continued to rise behind her big, fluffy hair, reminding me that time wasn’t on our sides.
Prior to discovering exactly who was on my porch, I had every intention of getting more rest. Rest was now the furthest of my concerns. Quickly, Kit had become my only one. Right now, nothing more mattered.
“You have a key. You could’ve used it,” I reminded her, breaking our silence.
“I needed your permission, as I was fired last night.”
You’ll always have my permission, I cringed at the little voice in my head siding with the woman who’d sent me home with a punch to the ego just hours prior – and in the rain, nonetheless. Nigga! I checked my damn self.
“Ki…” I paused, nostrils flaring in frustration. It was important to respect her wishes, but if I wasn’t to call her Kit then what the fuck was I supposed to call her? In my temporary state of confusion, my fingers found my scalp and began to scratch. A habit I needed to break.
“Kit is fine. You can call me Kit,” she clarified, shifting her weight, again.
“Maybe I should go home and you forget that I stopped by. You seem conflicted, and I don’t want to further complicate anything.
Sorry I even showed up like this,” she confessed, tossing her hands in the air and starting for her car.
As much as I admired her backside as she handed it to me, I hated it at the moment. Hated the cracking of her voice as she tried getting her words out. Hated that another nigga had gotten the chance to spoil her, turning her into a lowkey brat, and then left her alone.
Hated that she felt unwelcomed when she was. Hell, I even hated the fact that I moved so fucking swiftly to catch her by the arm and pull her into my home… into me.
Our chests collided, bringing me back to the moment at hand… back to her. At the realization that I was possibly invading every crevice of her personal space, I stepped back but failed to release her wrist, which I held closely.
Her eyes found mine before following the long trail where our bodies connected. The bolt of electricity-like energy that rushed through our veins wasn’t able to go unnoticed and neither was the rigidness underneath the fabric of my briefs.
“I-uh,” Kit staggered, unsure of her words.
“Stay,” I demanded before releasing her from my grip.
Nodding, she stepped backward with a bowed head.
Her eyes gawked at the floor beneath her as we both took the necessary time to gather our thoughts.
With moments fleeting, I considered a few possible reasons she’d declined my offer, but showed up at my door.
Her comfort was still in question. She was visibly shaken, even now.
“Okay,” she cooed, voice gentler and a bit calmer. Kit was at war with her thoughts and suppressing her reservations. It was pretty fucking obvious.
Twirling on her heels, she ventured toward the car that was in the center of my rounded driveway. And for the second time, I extended my long arm to pull her into my home. This time, her raw umber, curious rounds stared back at me in question of my actions.
To clarify, I briefly asked, “Where are your keys?”
With her freehand, she handed me her keys which were accompanied by a tube of mace in a red leather case. Her protection was priority in her life. With so many fools roaming the earth, it was satisfying knowing that she at least had a small advantage.
“There’s plenty. I should help.”
“Go inside and make yourself comfortable. Choose a bedroom, preferably one with a bath attached. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Or, maybe I’ll get started on breakfast,” she insisted.
“It’s not even seven,” I reminded her, desperate for her to relax and make herself comfortable. Since I’d met her, she’d been everything but.
“My body refuses breakfast after eight,” she revealed as I took note.
Every detail, I was shoving in my mental rolodex. There wasn’t a single thing that I wanted to forget. This was the case long before Kit began to reserve space in my head. Long before last night. Long before this all. It was just my thing.
Without another word, I encouraged her to have her way in the kitchen as I headed outside. Her slim fingers against my bare chest halted my actions, stopping me in my tracks and reawakening the missile that had been laid to rest between my legs.
Why the fuck did she do that?
“Wait. You’re going out there like this?”
Her eyes roamed my flesh, feeling as if they were unclothing my already partially covered body.
It wasn’t until they reached my suppressed erection due to the fabric of my briefs that she stopped. Her eyes widened slightly before the clearing of her throat. Quickly, her rounds met mine, again, and her bottom lip nearly disappeared into her mouth. There was that gnawing again. Her habit.
“Is there a problem with me going out like this?” I questioned, ready to hear exactly what she had to say and have her listen intently at the concerns that she had no damn business with.
Realizing she’d embarked on territory she didn’t belong, she backpaddled. “Of course not.” She smiled, lovingly.
Guilt surged through my veins as I mustered an attempt to pacify her worries with confirmation of our privacy.
“My home wraps around my driveway. No one – not even my neighbors – can see me. If it makes you more comfortable, then I’ll toss on a shirt.”
“Don’t mind me.” She waved off with a sigh. “Your home, your decision.”
“For the next however long, it’s your home, too, so both of our decisions matter.”
Without another word, I headed for the set of stairs that led to the master suite. Her personal comfort wasn’t the issue here. It was the discomfort she found herself in knowing that there was a chance someone else would catch me outside with a hard dick and briefs that could barely contain it.
Openly, she wouldn’t admit to it. Probably ever. Women were territorial like that – even with those they had no true interest in. This happened to be Kit’s case.
“Shit,” my muscles and I groaned at the same time as I descended the stairs.
After toting the three hundred thousand carriers and boxes into the house along with actual luggage, I needed the shower that I’d taken. I’d broken a sweat and it had drenched my back and chest. It was baffling, the reason for women needing so much shit for such little time.
Not that we knew how long any of this would last, but the fact still remained that women would carry along five months worth of clothing for a weekend trip and complain once they arrived that they had nothing to wear.
The smell of fresh food led me into the kitchen where I leaned against the edge of the foyer, admiring the dolled-up, bronze-colored woman who was fully clothed as if she was headed to brunch rather than the kitchen to cook breakfast. She smelled as good as she looked, too.
My nostrils had programmed her scent the minute the slight breeze welcomed her into my home, with the help of my hand. Pomegranate. Zest. Roses. And, maybe a splash of vanilla. The rarest combination smelled divine – on Kit, at least.
I watched from afar as she bobbed her head to the music while stirring whatever she was making in the large skillet.
Suddenly, I was starving. Unsure if my hunger rooted from the smell and sight of food or if there was a much greater reward that I was desperate to consume.
Nevertheless, I continued to gawk in silence, wondering what tunes had her hips swaying slowly and her curls bouncing freely.
Maybe some silly ass love song, I concluded.
Maybe not, followed quickly after. Whatever the case, she was in her element, headphones plugged into her ears and disappearing behind her hair.
Just as her skin, there were burnt orange, vermillion, and deep brown hues bonded and causing a beautiful shade of brown that was beyond my wildest dreams. And, as chocolate as her skin was, the orange notes were just as potent.
“My God,” I heard her shriek as she pulled her earbuds from her ear and held them at her chest.
The comfort that she exuded effortlessly seconds prior disappeared behind widened eyes and rigid cheekbones.
“You scared me.” Kit sighed.
“How much shit does one really need for what… a few weeks at best?” I deflected, searching for the carefree girl I’d walked in on and watched sway from one side to the other as her music assisted in a temporary escape.
“As many as they need.”
“I lost count of the trips I took to the car after the fifth.”
“Well, to my defense, I offered to help,” she sassed.
Ignoring her, I made my way over to the stove where she’d stood – offering me her backside in an attempt to conceal the discomfort that swelled her cheeks and chest, simultaneously. I etched away at the distance between us, placing it behind me.
As if she didn’t hear my indentations of space while occupying as much of it needed to meet her at the stove, Kit’s second gasp as I began to speak caused physical anguish.
“Eggs?” I questioned, finally close enough to see the ingredients she was stirring around.
“An omelet. While I don’t have your official meal plan, yet, I did a bit of research before heading over.”
“And all you discovered was an omelet?”
From side to side, I turned my head in each direction to see where the rest of the meal was. The omelet she was whipping up looked delicious, but more had to be on the menu. I preferred a full, colorful plate, no matter how healthy it was.
“No.” She shook her head and removed the dish from the stovetop.
“I learned much of what you are required to eat is what I already consume. Mostly fresh fruit, vegetables, nuts, eggs, and pretty much anything with protein that isn’t fattening.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to prepare the table while you find something, anything, to do with yourself besides gawk from across the room without announcing yourself. ”
“My intentions weren’t to scare you. My presence was meant to be made known by the ruckus these size twelve feet make on any surface. The music pumping through your buds was interfering with that. Blame self.”
Choosing to turn and walk away before she said anything else was possibly the best decision I’d made in the last few minutes. If I didn’t leave the moment I did, I’d still be standing there –waiting for her to say more. Waiting for her to say anything.