4. Myraj #2
“I travel a little bit, but I usually find myself in New York checking out plays, symphonies, and cultural museums. Now, I will travel to check out food from various countries and old ruins. Other than that, I’m basic.
I love shopping, going on vacation with friends and family, and reading, that kind of stuff. ”
“You like plays. That’s unique. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who does. What are some of your favorites?”
“Lion King, Lost Boys, and Wicked. I still want to see Joe Turner’s Come and Gone.”
“You sound so damn cultured,” I stated, laughing lightly.
“Not half as cultured as you, Miss World Traveler. Is that what you do all the time?”
“No. I work too hard running my business to travel as much as I’d like, but I do get away about six times a year. Other than that, I’m usually at home reading or out socializing with my friends.”
“Solo or with friends? Traveling, I mean.”
“Usually, there’s a group of us, but I always reserve the right to separate and do our own thing.
I really don’t like clingy people or being locked into an itinerary.
It feels like it inhibits me from being my true self.
I don’t always want to feel like I have to put on to get people’s approval, and sometimes I find myself doing that when I’m with a group of people.
They expect certain sacrifices, and if I don’t meet their expectations, then there’s a problem. ”
He motioned to the server who came over to our table. “Can we get a refill on our drinks, please?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be right back with your bourbon and her red wine,” the waiter stated.
We started with coffee and graduated to alcohol.
He turned his attention back to me. “I can appreciate needing to have your freedom. I feel the same way, except when it comes to my woman. I expect to know where she’s at and what she’s got going on. If I don’t, how can I protect her?”
“Why does she have to be protected by you? What makes you think she can’t protect herself?”
“She can, to a certain extent, but there are times in life where a woman can’t protect herself.
Her strength will never match a man’s. Hell, I can’t beat everyone, so I know she can’t.
I just want her to know that I have her, with me she never has to worry, and I don’t want her to cause me to worry either, not if she cares about my heart the way I care for hers.
The woman who is my soulmate will never have to prove herself to me.
She doesn’t have to try to compete or be my equal.
I just need her to be my lady, and I’ll be her man. Simple and true.”
“You’ve got a point,” I conceded. “What are your character flaws other than overprotectiveness?” I teased.
He smirked. “Maybe not flaws as much as they’re pet peeves. Like when people ignore me; it’s just rude, and that doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t always have an easy time of facing difficult realities either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like if I’ve poured my heart and soul into something and gave it my all, and then it still doesn’t come out right, I sometimes need a minute to get in the right space. I don’t want anyone trying to tell me how to handle things; give me a minute to process it and peace it out.”
“I can understand that. Sometimes you don’t want people all in your space and head when you’re trying to figure out your own emotions. They get all mixed up, and sometimes you’re not clear on what you feel versus what someone has put in your head.”
“Exactly.”
The waiter came back and refreshed our drinks.
When he stepped away, Micaiah continued speaking. “Now, here’s where you might think I’m a bit arrogant, but I’m not.”
“Oookay. Now the truth comes out,” I teased, laughing.
“I dislike not being treated like a king.”
I lifted my eyebrows and clasped my fingers under my chin. “Mm.”
“I work hard to earn that title when I’m in someone’s life, and I give that back in return.
My woman is my queen, and she is always referred to as such in every aspect.
I humble myself to her to ensure that she knows I respect her, that her heart is important to me, that I treasure her, and that all her needs are met.
I’m generous with my queen, and there is nothing more important to me than she is, not even my own needs.
So, when it’s not appreciated or reciprocated, despite all the sacrifices that I’m willing to make—that shit blows me. ”
His voice had turned intimate, and the sexy timber and rhythmic cadence of his voice sent chills all over my body. I could listen to him all day and night; he was just too fine.
We talked for a while longer, and we eventually found ourselves ordering toast, bacon, eggs, and homestyle potatoes.
“If I expressed interest in you, and I wanted to date you, what reservations would you have about that, if distance, money, or any superficial things weren’t a factor?”
“This is very superficial, but it’s the first thing that popped in my mind.”
“I’m all ears.”
“How tall are you?”
He smirked. “Six-three.”
“I’m five-one. I’m already short, but being around you makes me feel like a dwarf. I would have to wear heels if I were dating a man that much taller than me. Even my tennis shoes would have heels on them. I would probably wear them in bed.”
He chuckled, and the corners of his hooded eyes crinkled as amusement sparkled from his eyes. Micaiah wasn’t just handsome like some men; he was beautiful.
He leaned his muscular frame back and draped an arm over the back of his chair.
The lighting gleamed off his silky, short black fade.
Before he spoke again, he licked his tongue out and cleared a drop of cream from his heart-shaped lips, making me wish I was the one doing the licking or being licked.
I was surprised at that train of thought but jerked my attention up again when his bushy eyebrows rose and his wide nostrils flared. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
The frown on his face caused his dark, bushy eyebrows to dip down, making him appear unwelcoming, but not his energy. “I asked if the niggas you date had some sort of fetish, or . . . maybe you have some sort of fetish?”
“What made you ask that?”
“Baby, high heels in bed? I can get down with a lot of things, but a woman digging her heels in my body while I’m sexing her ain’t one of ’em.”
Warmth flushed through me at the mention of sex. My eyes dropped to his arms, and I cleared my throat. He had rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie a little bit.
“No. No fetish here. Though you seem to have one about tattoos.”
He looked down at his muscular arms and smiled. “Not a fetish, but they have meaning.”
He rolled his sleeves past his elbows and pointed at the image of a baby. “That’s my son, his name, and his footprint,” he explained, pointing to his arm. On his other arm was another tree, but on this tree, the leaves were scriptures.
“Do you have any tattoos?” he asked.
“No. I’m not interested in inking this canvas. Not a fan of needles or blemishing this beautiful skin God gifted me with.”
“Definitely beautiful, gorgeous.”
I smiled. “Thank you for creating space for me in your evening.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“You were clearly dealing with your own issues tonight, yet you put them aside and focused on me. You made sure that I was good and spent all these hours with me doing so.”
“Making sure that you were good assured that I was good.”
His words warmed my heart, and I hated for our time to come to an end, but it was three in the morning, and I needed to get back.
“It’s been good talking to you, Micaiah. Honestly, this was probably the most fun I’ve had all weekend. It’s morning. I need to get back,” I declared.
I suppressed a yawn and looked out the window.
I didn’t want to leave, because somehow, I knew that I would miss his presence.
“Let me pay the bill, and I’ll walk you back.”
I nodded and waited. While I waited, I couldn’t help but wondering if Micaiah could be a potential book bae. He was thoughtful, generous, and a great listener. Or maybe my imagination had run off with me this weekend. Only time would tell.