Chapter 10
TEN
Sunlight beamed into the fifteen foot windows. Its heat warmed my skin to the touch. The smell of black coffee stretched my nostrils. Nothing was familiar about the space I occupied.
Mentally.
Physically.
Or emotionally.
Still, content parted my lids, welcoming me into a new world of possibilities. I uncurled my spine, straightening my limbs in the process.
“Oooouch,” I yawned.
Everything hurt.
“Good morning, my baby.”
Ishmael’s voice lured me to unsteady waters. His loafers collided with the wood flooring. His steps drew closer, increasing the rate of my heartbeat.
Black loafers.
Black slacks.
Black button down.
Black blazer.
Black tie.
He was gutting. And well-groomed. And handsome. And alert. And curious. And quiet. His beauty was staggering. His silence was unearthing.
“Good morning.”
Ishmael was soundless. His observation required nearly every breath he took. There was no room for words.
“Coffee?” I asked, turning my nose upward.
He shook his head.
“Not for drinking.”
I’d succeeded in extracting words from him.
“Motivation.”
“Motivation?” Chuckling, I pulled the cover closer to my chin.
I wasn’t ready for the day. I wasn’t sure when I would be.
Ishmael shrugged.
“To not return to bed and spend the day wrapped in your walls.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“You have work to do, Royce. So do I.”
“Yes. I knoooooow,” I groaned, placing a hand on my forehead. “I need to make some calls before nine.”
“It’s almost eight. You have an hour.”
“Can you pass me my phone?”
“Your phone is in the trash that was picked up by the city this morning.”
He leaned over, sliding a new iPhone from his pants.
“Ishmael. What ha–”
“Nothing more than you have done, my baby.”
I was immediately reminded of the phone of his I’d destroyed. Karma was nasty in the morning.
“Where’s my phone?”
Ignoring me, he continued, “I took the liberty of giving you a new cell, one that is free of dating apps and message threads from niggas with targets on their backs now. You won’t be needing either of those.”
“You went through my phone?” My breath hiked in my chest.
“I’m many things, my baby, but stupid is not one of those. I won’t ever search through your cell. I trust you’ll tell me whatever it is I need to know.”
“And vice versa?”
He nodded.
“And vice versa.”
I sighed, running my hand through my messy hair. It was a disaster. It was evident that I’d been thoroughly fucked and fulfilled. So was my morning breath that both Ishmael and I disregarded. So was my bare face. Unclothed body. And dry mouth.
“Is there anyone special I should know about?”
“You.”
I pulled my lip in, sinking my teeth into it.
“Here. There are no codes set or nothing beyond the transferred SIM card.”
“Thank you.”
I accepted the cell and slid it underneath the cover with me.
“Do you really have to leave?”
“I wish I didn’t,” he breathed out, placing the coffee cup to his lips.
He grunted as he sipped.
“Awful.”
His nose was scrunched and his lips were turned upward.
“Then why are you drinking it, silly?”
“I’ve told you already, my baby. Every syllable from your mouth brings me closer to the danger zone.”
“You should leave.”
“I should,” he agreed.
Yet, his legs never moved. Neither did his hands. Or his eyes.
I melted against his sheets.
“Don’t look at me that way.”
“You leave me no choice. I’m fascinated. Admittedly, I’m in disbelief.”
“How so?”
“I’m trying my hardest to understand why God didn’t sit you in my path long ago. I could’ve used your presence. Would’ve saved me so much ene–”
“Timing is everything, Ishmael.”
He nodded. “It is.”
We embraced the comforting silence. Two full minutes passed before my lips parted again.
“Leave before I beg you to stay.”
“Begging wouldn’t be necessary.”
“No?”
“I don’t need much convincing, Royce.”
Ishmael placed the cup of coffee on the dark wood nightstand. He kneeled beside the bed, his face near mine. I covered my mouth with the cream sheet.
“I have morning breath.”
Ishmael pulled the cover from my face, tucking it under my chin. He placed a hand around my neck and leaned forward. When our lips touched, my eyes closed.
It was the natural reaction to his closeness. He felt so much like a figment of my imagination that I struggled to keep my eyes open with him near. This didn’t feel like reality. Though he’d reiterated the fact that he no longer wanted to participate, he still felt make-believe.
Otherwise, there was no perspicuous explanation for his perfection. Lucidity failed me with matters concerning Ishmael. He stripped me of my brilliance. And, for all the right reasons.
“You were mistaken if you assumed I gave a fuck, my baby.”
He wiped remnants of me from his mouth as he pulled backward. He stood, towering over me. Discomfort stirred me awake completely. I tossed my legs over the bed, unprepared for Ishmael’s departure.
He dug into the pocket of his blazer and removed a sleek, black and gold YSL wallet. He removed the glistening card and shoved it in my direction.
“I’m not sorry for fucking your hair up, but I regretted the decision shortly after it had been made.”
“Did you?”
He nodded.
“Only because I liked the way it looked from my favorite spot.”
I clenched, pressing my walls together.
“Where could that be?”
“Face wedged between your thighs.”
My cheeks flushed as my smile reached my eyes.
“Go get your shit fixed, my baby. And, whatever else your heart desires, on me.”
My fingers curled around the thickness of his AMEX.
“Well aren’t you kind. I was beginning to think you assumed your business bill and bedroom bill were combined.”
Ishmael tossed his head back in laughter. It was the sweetest sound known to mankind. My heart skipped a beat. And then another.
Flutters danced around my stomach.
“Nah. No sweat, my baby. I’m no fool.”
“Good then. That means this stays with me?” I needed clarity.
He lifted his hands, surrendering.
“It stays with you.”
“Well, now that that’s clear, we can discuss authorized user accounts.”
“It’s your world, Royce. I’ll get it worked out.”
I pursed my lips. He leaned in, first placing a kiss on my forehead. He, then, lowered his eyes to mine and pressed his lips against mine.
His arms engulfed me. So did his aroma.
“Take care of yourself, love. Everything is on me.”
Ishmael vanished. However, his scent lingered on my skin and on the sheets. Parts of me went missing along with him. I wanted them back. I wanted him back.
I tossed the cover over my disheveled mane and kicked my legs. A low squeal erupted from my body as I tried suppressing the exhilaration flowing through me.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”
I felt like a high school girl with a crush on the star quarterback who’d just acknowledged my existence with a mere head nod.
But I was no high school girl. And, Ishmael was not the starting quarterback. He’d done far more than acknowledge my presence. He’d acknowledged my heart, my desires, my fears, my transgressions, my frustrations, my bad parts, my good parts, and his interest in it all.
“Your front door is ajar. Disarm now. Disarm now. Disarm now.”
I closed the door of the condominium, quieting the sound of the lawnmowers manicuring the lawn of the complex.
Twenty-seven.
Twenty-six.
Twenty-five.
I counted down the seconds until the alarm began blaring.
Twenty-four.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-two.
7662.
I entered the code Mercer had given me. Offering his sanctuary during my Berkeley visits was another way of keeping me close. Mercer wasn’t a man of too many words, but one could feel everything he was thinking from his actions.
Vallei added the perfect touch to the pad. Her signature was scribbled all over the furnishings and fixtures. She’d designed their hideaway so beautifully.
“It’s nothing special, but it’s a safe place to lay your head when you’re here. Vallei goes to clear her head every so often. Vallei is where I clear my head, so I’m not there unless she needs me to be.”
His words replayed as I stood in front of the central hub for the alarm.
“He’s happy,” I whispered.
“System disarmed.”
I placed a hand on my heart and pulled in fresh air. Everything Mercer needed, Vallei had to give. The two complemented each other well.
“Good evening, baby.”
My eyes blossomed. My fingers gripped the threads of my fabric. My heart tried escaping my chest.
“Chemistry!”
“You’re slipping,” he chastised, kissing the skin of his teeth.
His disappointment led me to follow him. I hated it. The thought of it.
“The alarm was– and then Mercer was on my mi– I–”
“Slipping.”
I sighed, dropping my shoulders. Chemistry opened the fridge and removed a bottle of water. He, then, rounded the counter and slid the second drawer out. He dipped his hand inside and removed a long packet.
“Not exactly.”
“Excuses aren’t necessary, Royce.”
He poured the orange powder into the water, capped it, and then shook the mixture.
“I don’t have any,” I admitted, shrugging.
“They’re useless, anyhow.”
I rolled my eyes, hating how he was always right and how much I missed him at the same time. His presence was a gift I didn’t mind receiving repeatedly.
“You don’t make this easy.”
“Life isn’t easy, baby. Drink up. You’re dehydrated.”
“Ted–”
“Drink.”
“How do you figure I’m dehydrated?”
He grabbed my wrist, extending my arm.
“There isn’t a vein in sight, Royce. Drink.”
He shoved the bottle in my direction.
“Voluntarily or involuntarily.”
I snatched the bottle. Chemistry nearly took my fingers off.
“Ouch.” I chuckled.
“Your head is as hard as they come.”
“So I’ve heard.”
I sipped from the bottle as I observed his posture. He surveyed our surroundings as if they were unfamiliar to him. I was no fool. He’d visited. The moment he discovered this was where I’d be frequenting during my stays, he’d visited.
I knew Chem by heart because for the longest, he was my heart. Jru forced me to make room for others. So did his first-born son. And Psalem. And Prince. And Malaya.