Chapter 11
“Sylas says you’re having a boy,” I said as we weaved through the restaurant on our way to the bathroom.
“Yes. This is the first grandbaby on both sides, so everyone is beyond excited.”
“Aww, that’s so beautiful. He’s gonna be well-loved and spoiled.”
“I’ve already come to terms with him being everybody’s baby. I just hope I get to spend time with him.”
She laughed, but I had a feeling she was serious.
“My niece or nephew will be the first grandbaby on our side, but my brother’s wife, Yandy, has a nephew who’s almost sixteen. I’m sure their baby will be just as spoiled as yours.”
We entered the bathroom, took care of our business, and met at the sink. As we washed our hands, one of the servers entered just as Taylor said something that caused the server to stop in her tracks.
“Sylas really likes you because it’s been over a decade since he introduced us to someone he was dating.”
“Excuse me. Did you say Sylas?”
Taylor and I looked at the woman in the mirror, our expressions of confusion matching.
“I did,” Taylor responded cautiously.
“It wouldn’t happen to be Sylas McCoy, would it?” the woman pressed.
“Who wants to know?” I asked, putting my body slightly between her and Taylor just in case she decided to do something crazy.
“Tuh. You must be her.”
The woman, who I now assumed was Livvy, looked me up and down with disgust written all over her face.
“If the ‘her’ you’re referring to is Sylas McCoy’s woman, that’s me. And you are?”
I heard Taylor stifle a laugh while I waited for Livvy to respond.
“Sylas has commitment issues, so don’t get too comfortable.”
“Oh, I’m real comfortable, especially when I sit on his face. You enjoy the rest of your shift.”
Taylor burst out laughing before we left the bathroom, and was cracking up, holding her stomach by the time we made it back to the table.
“Are you okay? Why are you holding your stomach?” Maison asked as he stood, his arms extended toward his wife.
“I’m fine, baby, but wait until we tell y’all what just happened in the bathroom,” Taylor said between bursts of laughter.
Sylas and Maison helped us back into our seats and returned to theirs. Taylor used the cloth napkin to dab her eyes as she tried to gather herself. I could feel Sylas staring at the side of my head as he waited for one of us to tell them what happened.
“Is everything okay?” Ms. Rita asked.
“Everything is fine. One of Sylas’s women works here, and we just ran into her in the bathroom,” I responded.
“Shit,” Sylas whispered.
“What do you mean, one of Sylas’s women?” Mr. McCoy questioned, clearly puzzled by my comment.
“One of Sylas’s exes—” Taylor started.
“Hold on, Tay. She’s not my ex. She’s someone I dated, but she was never my woman,” Sylas corrected her.
“Whatever she was to you, she heard me say your name when she came into the bathroom and called herself warning Khiya about your commitment issues. Khiya set her straight, though. I can’t repeat what she said in front of the parentals, but it was good.”
Taylor burst out in laughter again, and I was so tickled by her reaction that I began to laugh, too.
“Boy! Are you crazy? Why would you bring Khiya here, knowing someone you used to deal with works here?” Mr. McCoy questioned.
“I tried to switch restaurants, but Ma said you weren’t budging.”
“If you had said why, it wouldn’t have been a problem, Son. You can’t be this dumb. I know I raised you with more common sense than this,” Mr. McCoy barked.
“Isn’t this cozy?”
Sylas groaned at the sound of Livvy’s voice, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. She had some audacity, bringing her ass to this table.
“Can we help you?” Mr. McCoy asked.
“Hi. I’m Livvy. I’ve been dating Sylas for a year. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Oh shit,” Maison whispered.
Livvy extended her hand to Mr. McCoy, and he looked at her like she had a screw loose.
“Young lady, we’re trying to enjoy a nice family dinner. I’m sure you have some work to do elsewhere,” Ms. Rita told her.
“I’d think after dating your son for a year, I was part of the family. She’s only been around for a hot second and—”
“Girl—”
Sylas held his hand up and shook his head, cutting me off.
“Aye. Look at me.”
I gave him my attention.
“Don’t ever feel like you have to argue with another woman about me, especially if it’s about your position in my life.
I told you what was up with her last night.
I don’t know why she’s acting like she suddenly has amnesia, but she knows what’s up, too.
There’s a reason why, after a year of dating, she couldn’t be where you are after two months. Are we clear?”
I nodded.
“Nah, I need to hear you tell me you understand, baby.”
“I understand.”
He leaned forward and kissed me softly. My panties were soaked, and I prayed no one noticed my hardened nipples. Sylas begrudgingly turned around to address Livvy.
“Livvy, I’m trying to remain respectful in front of my parents and in this establishment. I need you to leave my family’s presence.”
“But Sylas—”
“If I have to ask you again, today will be your last day of employment here, and I will be banned from coming here ever again. Please go away,” he continued.
“Umm, is everything okay over here? Livvy, what are you doing over here? This isn’t your section. You have tables waiting for you,” our server said.
I truly believed that was the only reason Livvy walked away. Our server still had no clue what was going on, but she apologized on Livvy’s behalf before serving our food. As soon as she left, Mr. McCoy began clapping.
“I think you lost your way for a moment, Son, but thank God you’re back. That was the man I raised. Welcome to the family, Khiya.”
Everyone laughed.
“Thank you, Mr. McCoy.”
“Nah, we’re family. Call me Pops.”
“Okay, Pops.”
The rest of our dinner went off without a hitch. The food was delicious, the conversation was enlightening, and the company was everything. The McCoys reminded me a lot of my family, and I felt right at home.
Two hours later, when we arrived back at the condo, I was naked before Sylas could lock the door. He turned, and his eyes widened with surprise as he began to undress.
“I see what kinda time you on,” he said.
“My pussy’s been wet since you set me straight.”
He grabbed the front of my neck and pulled me into his space. We kissed frantically as I helped him remove the rest of his clothing. He picked me up and slid me onto his dick. With his hands gripping my waist, he pounded into me as if he were trying to prove a point.
Somehow, we made it to his bedroom and fell onto the bed. His pounding turned into slow, deep stroking. Something different was happening between us, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Every kiss, every caress, every moan, every groan, and every stroke felt different.
As my pussy began to pulse around his dick, and his dick began to throb inside my walls, we looked into each other’s eyes, and that was when I knew I’d fallen in love. Those three words may have been absent from my tongue, but they were present in my heart and soul.
Sylas and I parting ways was always bittersweet, but today was harder than the times before. I couldn’t believe I was on the verge of tears as we walked down the hall toward the elevator.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“I’m sad.”
“What are you sad about?” he asked as I stepped onto the elevator.
“We won’t see each other until Friday.”
He pushed the button for the lobby, then draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.
“This is the first time you’ve been emotional about us being apart. I think you might be falling for a nigga,” he teased.
Little did he know, I’d fallen head over heels for him, but I didn’t respond. We stepped off the elevator in the lobby and exited the building. It was sunny outside, with mild temperatures for April, and we walked slowly to where my car was parked.
After I unlocked the doors, he put my bag in the back seat, and I leaned against the trunk. He stood in front of me, wrapping me in his arms.
“What time are you heading to the airport?” I asked.
“About four. My flight is at six.”
“Okay. I’ll call you when I leave my parents’ house.”
He kissed the top of my head before leaning back a bit to see my face. He gently took my chin between his thumb and index finger before pressing his lips against mine.
Our kiss lingered, neither of us wanting to be the first to move away. Eventually, he lifted his head but pecked me several times before finally putting some space between us.
“If you don’t get in that car, I’m gon’ carry your ass back upstairs,” he warned.
I didn’t move, because that was what I wanted him to do. I stared at him, almost challenging him to do it.
“I’m pretty sure I love you,” came out of my mouth, shocking me so much that I slapped my hand over it.
I was so embarrassed for allowing my intrusive thoughts to spill from my lips, and when I tried to rush to the front of my car, Sylas stopped me.
“Hold on, beautiful.”
I couldn’t look at him, so I buried my face in his chest. He wasn’t having that, though, and slipped his index finger under my chin, lifting it and forcing me to look at him.
“I need to go,” I whispered.
“You can’t say something like that and duck out on me.”
“It slipped out before I—”
“Before you could talk yourself out of confessing your true feelings?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m not sure about how I feel about your confession.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m positive I love you, and you’re only pretty sure you love me. That doesn’t match, baby. How can I get us on the same page?”
“We are on the same page. I love you, Sy.”
“And I love you.”
The last thing I thought we would do before I left was confess our love for each other in the parking lot, but stranger things had happened.
We shared one last, long, heated kiss, and I finally hit the road.
This weekend was everything, and I was already counting down the days until we were together again.