Chapter 4 #4
“Come on.” He smiled. “Let me get you out of here.”
I slid into the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt. Cohen jogged around to the driver’s side, climbed in, and pulled away from Bleau Gene’s. Traffic was still heavy. He glanced over at me.
“You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Cool.” He smiled. “I know a spot.”
“Okay.” I laughed. “Where?”
“Zesto’s.” I turned my head and looked at him. “Zesto’s?”
“What?” He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re too good for a burger.”
“I never said that.”
“Good.”
“They got the best burgers and onion rings on this side of town.”
“You sound real damn passionate.”
“I am.”
We both laughed.
A few minutes passed before he looked at me again. “Can I take you home, Fumi?”
“You can.” I smiled. “I didn’t pack a bag.”
A grin spread across his face. “I’ve got a pair of boxers and a white tee you can sleep in.”
“Umm…”
The traffic leaving Bleau Gene’s was still backed up. Shit, the city wasn’t calling it a night anytime soon. Cohen reached over and turned the music down just enough for us to talk.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot. Even this late, the place was still packed, with a couple of families, teenagers hanging out late, a few couples, and a shitload of folks fresh out of the clubs. The smell of burgers and fries hit me the second we stepped out of the Corvette.
“Damn,” I laughed. “The whole city must’ve had the same idea.”
“I told you Zesto’s was good.”
We found a booth near the window after placing our order. We ordered two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, a chocolate shake for Cohen, and a strawberry shake for me.
I reached into my purse for my wallet.
Cohen stopped me. “I got it.”
“I can pay for my own food.”
“I know you can.” He smiled. “But I asked you out.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
A few minutes later, our food arrived. I grabbed a fry from Cohen’s tray before even touching mine. He looked down at his basket, then back at me.
“Damn, you ordered your own,” he chuckled.
“I know.”
“So why are you eating mine?”
I shrugged. “Yours taste better right now.”
Without another word, he slid his basket toward me. “You can have it.”
I laughed so hard I almost dropped my shake. “You ain’t getting none of these fries back.”
“I’ll survive.”
Damn… This nigga was easy.
“So…” I took another bite of my burger. “How’d you end up opening a shoe store?”
His eyes lit up. “I’ve loved shoes since I was a kid. My grandma bought me my first pair of Jordans, and I never looked back. I got tired of making other people money. I figured if I was gonna work that hard, it might as well be for myself.”
“I respect that.”
“What about you?”
“What made you want to become a hairstylist?”
I smiled. “I like making women feel good about themselves. Sometimes all it takes is a fresh style, a little confidence, and somebody reminding you that you’re still that girl.”
“You love what you do.”
“I really do.”
“I can tell.”
The conversation flowed so naturally that I lost track of time. There was no pressure. No bullshit games, and no awkward silence. Just two people enjoying each other’s company.
As I shifted in the booth, I rubbed the back of my ankle. Cohen noticed right away.
“Them heels done gave up on yo ass?”
“They have given up.”
He laughed. “I figured.”
When we finally finished eating, Cohen stood and extended his hand.
“You ready?”
I slipped my hand into his. “I’m ready.”
Walking back to the Corvette, I caught myself stealing another glance at him.
He looked over.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He smiled. “You a liar now?”
I shook my head. “No…”
“So, what’s up?”
I smiled to myself. “You’re just… different.”
For the first time all night, Cohen didn’t have anything to say. He smiled, opened my door, and waited for me to get in.
We finally made it to Cohen’s spot. He pulled into the driveway of a modern loft tucked away in Midtown and killed the Corvette’s engine. Before I could reach for the door handle, he was already walking around the front of the car. He opened my door and looked me over from head to toe.
Damn, this nigga knew he was fine. Cohen knew he could have just about any woman he wanted, except me. For some reason, I liked making him work for it.
“Aye, Fumi…” He smiled. “We’re home.” He held out his hand. “Unless you want me to carry you, we can walk.”
I grinned. “You can carry me.”
Without another word, he scooped me into his arms.
“You’re really milking these heels, huh?”
“They’ve been through enough tonight.”
Cohen laughed as he carried me through the front door. The loft matched him. It’s clean, modern, but very masculine. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, while warm lighting softened the space just enough to make it feel like home rather than a showroom. He finally set me on my feet.
“You want something to drink?”
I turned to face him.
“Water.”
Cohen walked into the kitchen, grabbed me a bottle of water, and pulled a soda from the refrigerator for himself. When he turned around, I caught him staring again.
“What?” He shrugged.
“Still thirsty.” I laughed.
“For what?” Cohen slowly walked toward me until there was barely any space between us. “For you,” he said in a low voice. “And only you.”
Sheesh, heat crept across my face. Cohen reached for my hand.
“Come on.”
Cohen led me upstairs to his bedroom. It was just as impressive as the rest of the loft.
It was simple, expensive as fuck, and comfortable.
“I need to shower.”
He nodded. “I’ve got a clean pair of boxers and a white T-shirt in the top drawer.”
“I’ll find them.”
As I started toward the bathroom, Cohen caught my wrist. I turned around. He stepped closer, close enough for me to feel his breath.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
“You already did.”
“I know.” Fuck, his smile was almost unfair. “I want another one.”
Cohen leaned in slowly. This time… neither of us rushed it. When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine for a second before letting me go.
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
I closed the bathroom door behind me. The hot water washed away the sweat, perfume, and the night’s noise. Standing beneath the shower jets, I caught myself smiling. Somehow… tonight had become exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
When I stepped back into the bedroom wearing one of Cohen’s oversized white tees and his boxers, he looked up from the edge of the bed. His eyes softened.
“You look comfortable.”
“I am.”
I climbed beneath the covers, exhausted. A few minutes later, Cohen joined me. Without saying much, he gently cradled one of my feet in his lap.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ve been in heels all night.”
His thumbs worked slow circles across the bottom of my foot.
I let out a quiet sigh. “That feels so good.”
“I know,” Cohen smiled without looking up. When he finished, he opened his arms. “Come here.”
I snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He brushed a strand of hair from my face.
“Can I hold you until you fall asleep?”
I looked up at him. “Yeah.”
Cohen kissed the top of my forehead. “Good.”
For the first time in a long time… I fell asleep feeling completely safe.