Chapter 17 #2
“All the perks of homeownership with none of the responsibilities.”
I leaned in towering over her. “You trying to be neighbors?”
“No, I’m not suggesting you move here. But I wanted to give you a feel of the condo option since we haven’t explored that yet.”
I looked out the window at the area below. “Is that a lake?”
“Manmade, yes. There are running and bike paths and a picnic area. Sometimes they have concerts at the amphitheater.”
“I like the way you decorated the place.”
“Thanks, let me show you the rest.”
A few days ago, we were at a private resort enjoying drinks with umbrellas in them, and now back in Vegas we were pretending like shit hadn’t shifted between us.
I’d seen Danessa naked for the first time in a long ass time, and it wasn’t something I could just push away into the murky recesses of my brain.
In Mexico I was respectful, but all I could think about was her smile, tan lines, and naked ass. I wanted more. More access, more time.
Danessa led me to the second bedroom she was using as an office and then to the primary which was spacious with large floor to ceiling windows. On the way to the bathroom, I scanned the walk-in closet for size 14 shoes or a rack of men’s shirts.
“And this is my bathroom.” The word bathroom was an understatement. It was like a wellness getaway in here with candles, a soaker tub, and eucalyptus in the shower.
“The tub is huge.”
“I checked, it should be long enough for you to fit.” Was that an invitation? I absentmindedly opened up the medicine cabinet and was quickly chided. “Mind your business.”
“My bad. Can I open the linen closet?”
“Knock yourself out.” I scanned the neatly folded towels and labeled bins with toiletries and hand soap.
We needed to talk about Mexico and my feelings.
I couldn’t be a good friend to Danessa if I was constantly thinking about fucking her.
She wanted to be friends, and I was willing to fall in line and be the best friend she’d ever had.
But not before she knew I still had feelings for her. That for me this wasn’t over.
“How’d your event go yesterday?”
Closing the closet I rolled my eyes. “Colin tried to start some shit, but—”
“You should just bop him one good time.”
That seemed to be the consensus. “Danessa, I thought you were all about protecting your energy.”
“Yeah and sometimes you just need to let motherfuckers know you are not the one or the two. I bet if you did, he wouldn’t test you again.”
“Colin is all talk and the minute he wants to stop flapping his gums and square up, I’m ready. I ain’t been in a fight in a minute and I would love the chance to brush up on my combos.” I playfully swung in her direction. “Right hook, left hook, jab, cross, uppercut.”
“Sweep the leg … nut stomp.”
“Whoa, not the nuts.”
“I don’t fight fair.”
“I remember.” I opened a bottle of perfume from her bathroom counter giving it a whiff.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the woman who picked up a chair and threw it in a room full of people.”
“Don’t act like the situation wasn’t already out of control.”
“How did throwing a chair help?”
“Everybody was fighting. I just put something extra on it.”
“I had to defend you.”
“Yeah, and it was exciting. You the tall, strong brother jumping in to rescue me, the damsel in distress.”
“You had a taser in your hand, you weren’t that distressed.”
“I was ready to stun anyone who tried it.”
These damn Irwin women. “And I’ve never been on a dinner boat since.”
Danessa exited the bathroom, and I followed her into the kitchen with commercial-grade appliances. The only reason I knew that was because she always pointed it out on our house tours. I could clock an eight-burner Nostalgie oven from a mile away.
“Thoughts.”
“Listen, I love condos.”
“Their low maintenance and secure which is great for individuals who travel often.”
“I agree. I’m just thinking about the trajectory of my life long term.”
“Meaning?”
I hitched my shoulder. “A few years from now I may get married and start a family, and a condo doesn’t really support that.
” This wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, but it was a possibility.
For the longest I thought I’d be a married man by now.
The plan was to move to Kansas City and start planning our wedding.
But Danessa decided to break my heart instead.
Danessa’s head jerked. “Married?”
“Don’t screw up your face like that. I am very much in demand. I think they call me a high value man.”
She rolled her eyes. “I hate that phrase.”
“You said it yourself people our age are pairing off and getting married.”
“Yes, but you don’t even have a girlfriend.”
“When you meet the one, shit moves fast.”
“So you plan to meet the one and be married in two years.”
“I don’t know maybe less. Maybe I’ll pull a Dante and Anika.”
Danessa clapped her hands. “Wow. Dante and Anika are not the standard, they’re an anomaly.”
“Why are you so pressed?”
“I’m not. If you want to marry some chick you bumped into at a pool party, be my guest.”
“Wait are you mad about a hypothetical baddie at a fake pool party?”
“No, this tour is over.” She tried to shove me toward the door.
“Are you jealous, Danessa Irwin?”
“Of what, your bad taste in women?”
“I picked you.”
“No, you didn’t. I did the picking.”
“Could you stop trying to push me it’s embarrassing?” She’d even leaned into it but I didn’t budge. “If you want me to leave, I’m gone.” My feet remained planted.
“Great.”
“Are you hungry? Because I could feed you.” I was lightweight talking about my dick.
“Umm …”
Shaking my head vigorously I finally backed up toward the door. “You know what, never mind.”
“Wait why?”
“Because anytime a woman says ‘Umm’ the way you just did she’s not interested.”
“I’m interested in dinner and we could stream a movie. But shouldn’t you be outside looking for a wife who’s okay with you referring to yourself as a high value man?”
“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”
“It’s a stupid phrase. Are you staying or not?”
“I don’t need a pity invite. I need an enthusiastic yes.”
“I’m not going to beg.”
“I’d love to see that.” My eyes briefly dropped to her mouth, but I quickly reset. “Are we ordering or are we cooking? Because I could probably eat an entire baby cow right about now.”
“I don’t have much in the fridge.”
“Danessa, I grew up poor. I know how to work magic in the kitchen.” Opening the fridge, I found a whole uncooked chicken, celery, half an onion a bag of frozen vegetables, and some unidentifiable soupy sauce in Tupperware.
In the pantry I scored with three potatoes.
“I can make you dinner, but you have to help.”
“Why are you acting like I can’t cook?”
“Because when we were together you couldn’t.”
“Yes, I could.”
I slammed a can of mushroom soup on the counter. “You gave me food poisoning.”
“That was one time.”
“How many times have I poisoned you?”
“Zero,” she whispered.
I leaned in pointing to my ear. “How many?”
“ZERO!”
“Okay just wanted to get that on record.”
“Noted. Now what can I do?”
“Wash, oil, and salt the potatoes.”
“I can handle that.”
“You better because if you fuck up baked potatoes, I’m going to have questions.”
We moved past each other going about our respective tasks.
Danessa would occasionally brush past me on her way to the pantry.
And I think she may have washed her hands at least twenty times in the process.
Cooking together wasn’t foreign for us. When we dated, I’d cook almost every weekend, in the shared kitchen in my dorm room.
Danessa would drink wine and supervise because she was a shit cook.
While other guys my age were going out to the club on Friday nights, I was at home in my happy place with my girl and good food.
I was working on seasoning the chicken when Danessa came up from behind me. Her hand landed on my back which caused me to flinch before relaxing into her touch. “It already smells good.”
I was tempted to kiss her like I’d done so many times in the past. Suggesting we cook together was probably a bad idea.
Shit being around Danessa for any length of time was a bad idea.
Her presence warped my reality, blurring the lines between our blissful past and the cold realization that what we had was most likely gone. Ruined by time and hurt feelings.
“I could get used to having a personal chef.”
Why was she standing so close to me? “Don’t.”
“I have a salad bag I can put together.”
“Sounds good.”
Put a finger down if you moved to a new city and your realtor is your ex from college.
The one who got away, broke your heart, and never looked back.
But after all these years you two decided to try to be friends and now you’re in her kitchen making dinner, but all you can think about are her teardrop breast and the voracity in which she used to suck your dick.
Please note that I’ve put a finger down.
We settled into eating and watching a scary movie Danessa selected.
“See and that’s why you can’t go on a vacation with just anybody.” I gestured toward the television.
“What do you mean?”
“They heard a noise in the cellar and this dude is talking about let’s check it out.”
“It could be an animal.”
“Or it could be a homicidal killer ready to gut them like a fish.”
“They paid a lot for the house rental.”
“Fuck that house rental if it were me, I’d already be in the car and on the highway to the nearest civilized city.”
“You’d just leave?”
“I can guarantee you everybody in this movie is about to die. But not me, cause my ass would already be home.”
She licked sauce from the corner of her mouth. “I think you’re overreacting.”
“Danessa we are Black, we don’t do creepy cabins in the woods.”
“What if I wanted to stay?”