Chapter 6 Solé #2
I bent over laughing because his ass meant every single word.
It was the audacity and certainty, the way he spoke like he already had both hands on my peace and planned on keeping it guarded.
I felt my freckles light up, as he would say, before I could stop it, and my heart did that embarrassing little flutter like it was auditioning for a romantic comedy.
He wasn’t just flirting. He was claiming responsibility of me.
He was saying, I see you and I’m not letting the world treat you carelessly.
Mel came into the breakroom to heat her lunch, and I could not hold it in.
“Girl, look what this man texted me,” I said quietly, holding up my phone.
Mel leaned in. “Let me see.”
I angled the screen toward her, and she read it aloud. “He said, anybody watching you too hard can look elsewhere.” Mel’s mouth fell open. “Oh, he talking reckless-reckless. I know that’s right, new brother-in-law. Look out, Harrison!”
I laughed, trying to hide my excitement at her words and his. “He’s so dramatic.”
Mel slid her plate into the microwave. “I love it. He is applying pressure, as he should. You a damn diamond, sis. I saw yo’ boo by the gym earlier, too,” she said, lowering her voice.
I felt a smile tug at my lips. “You did?”
“Yep,” Mel said, nodding like it was obvious.
A couple of teachers walked in, still talking like they hadn’t had a full breath since first period. Their conversation was loud, careless, and full of staffroom gossip and banter.
One teacher stated while fanning herself, “Girl, I’m telling you, that new swim coach is fine as hell.”
“Unnecessarily fine, because why is it legal to look that good?” The other one agreed.
I shot my eyes at Mel and smirked as I ate my homemade chicken pot pie.
I was trying to act normal, like my heart wasn’t palpitating in cartoon rhythm.
The irony of it sat right in my lap. I had been avoiding attention, ducking it, dodging it, keeping my head down for years, and now the building was buzzing about the same man who was claiming me so fiercely.
Roman walked into the teacher’s lounge, and the room shifted.
His presence demanded our attention. He was tall, fine, dark skin gleaming, broad shoulders, muscles bulging through his shirt, and he smelled amazing.
His calm energy made people straighten without even knowing why.
Conversations lowered on instinct. Eyes followed him, but his didn’t.
His eyes found me and stayed there, steady and sure.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” He addressed everyone, but he kept his eyes solely on me.
It was as if nothing or no one else mattered.
The quietest part of myself that had been starving to be noticed by someone like him without admitting it, the part that wanted to believe I could be chosen on purpose, not just stumbled upon, ate his attention up.
“Can I sit with you, beautiful?” he asked.
Oh, so we’re doing it like this then?
Heat rushed up my neck. I knew I was as red as the damn cardigan I wore.
I looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.”
The other teachers swooned and squealed like they were watching a live episode of something they weren’t supposed to be invested in.
“Oh my God!”
“I know that’s right, Ms. S!”
Mel did the most, of course. “Oh, I love it when two pretty muthafuckas assemble like the Avengers, okay? Oh shit, I’m at work .
. . Professional setting. Let me get my crazy ass back to class!
” Mel shouted it like an announcement as she gave a high-five to her aide, Ms. Sosa, from the math department.
We all cracked up because Mel’s ass didn’t have a lick of sense.
As the room cleared out, Roman leaned in and whispered lowly, “You are already stunning, but you get even sexier to me when you get all shy on me. What’s going on with you today, though? How’s your day treating you, love?”
I blushed again as he stared at me intently with warm eyes, waiting for me to respond, and he watched it happen like he was entertained by my innocence and honored by it at the same time.
His eyes were warm, patient, and locked in, waiting for me to breathe and answer.
I had to switch up the tempo because I should not be so hot and bothered in a school where minors were present. I gently tapped him on the arm.
“It’s going well. Tell me all about your interview. I see you got the job, as I already knew you would.”
He smiled at me, and my heart jumped from left to right, performing Lil’ Keke’s “Southside” in my damn chest.
“I went to Self Ridge A&M with the principal. I still can’t believe I let him talk me into joining a damn fraternity.
” He shook his head in disbelief, smiling at the memory.
“Once I got online after I got off the phone with you, did my research, and saw it was him running stuff, I knew it was a done deal. The interview was just a formality, real shit. I’m grateful for the opportunity, though. ’”
Wow! I was genuinely excited for him. He wasn’t bragging or puffing his shoulders.
It was just facts, gratitude, and the quiet confidence of a man who knew his value without needing applause.
He talked about swimming like it was more than a sport when we talked on the phone for hours.
He talked about it as if it was discipline, therapy, and survival all at once.
He spoke about kids like he could see their futures, like he wanted to build them a safer route before the streets tried to draft them.
It did something to me. It made my admiration deepen into something heavier, something that felt like respect, and respect always made the desire more dangerous.
“What you staring at, beautiful?” He laughed at me while I gazed at him in awe, thinking back on our conversation and snapping me from my thoughts.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about our conversation the other night. I’m thrilled for you, Roman.”
“Pretty Little Dipper, stop playing with me. What the hell is a Roman? You know my name. Let me hear it.” He cupped his hand to his ear, waiting for me to call him anything but his government.
I laughed from a deep place because this man was determined to give me all the cutesy nicknames and act like my government name was optional.
Pretty Little Dipper? I felt like him because who the hell was that?
He truly played all damn day, but I absolutely loved it.
I loved that he could be playful without being careless, bold without being disrespectful.
“Well, baby,” I said, my voice dropping to a sweet, softer tone on purpose, “I suppose I’ll take you out tonight to treat you. Celebrate your win for today.”
He frowned hard as hell. “You continue to insult me, love.” He shook his head playfully, smirking sexily.
I was smiling so hard my cheeks were hurting.
Roman stared at me like he was trying to memorize my face as if he didn’t trust time to hold onto me without his effort. “What does your dream man look like?”
My cheeks warmed. “We are not doing this in the teacher’s lounge.”
“We are. Answer,” he encouraged.
I shook my head, smiling, because my resistance was weak, and he knew it. “He’s intentional. He’s consistent. He’s respectful, and he has a calm spirit for me and those he loves.”
Roman nodded slowly. “Okay. What’s your dream date?”
I hesitated, then answered softly. “Something thoughtful. Something where I feel . . . considered.”
Roman’s eyes softened. “And what do you see your man doing for you?”
I thought about it, the real answer rising before the polite one could, and I responded gently but firmly. “Showing up. Being steady. Being someone I can trust.”
Roman leaned in a little closer, staring into my eyes. “What does a healthy relationship look like to you, Solè?”
I held his gaze because he was asking like he planned on building it, not just hearing it. “Open communication. Respect. Safety.”
Roman nodded again, taking it all in like he meant it, like it mattered, and he was collecting my needs the way careful men collect blueprints before they build.
“Good,” he murmured. His nose flared slightly, like he caught something. His eyes dipped and came back up. “You smell good.”
I tapped him lightly on the arm. “Boy—”
A grin returned to his handsome face. “I’m just saying. Have a good day, Connie.”
“You too. We’ll talk about that date.”
Roman stood up like the conversation had already been signed, stamped, and approved.
“We not going to talk about it. We going to do it,” he said. He threw his trash away.
I laughed, and Roman looked back at me one more time before he walked out of the breakroom and winked at me.
He was something else, and I welcomed it with open arms, even as a small voice in me whispered a gentle warning and a hopeful prayer at the same time: Lord, let this be real. Let this be safe. Let this be mine without costing me myself.
The end of the day had finally come, and I was ready to exit the building immediately. Mel popped into my classroom like she always did, purse already on her shoulder.
“You ready?” she asked, her smile mischievous.
She was up to something.
“Yes, girl. Let’s go.” I exhaled, grabbing my things.
We stepped into the hallway together, and my stomach dropped.
Mr. Henderson jumped slightly, like I had caught him doing something wrong. He was standing right outside my door.
“Ms. Stevens, can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, smiling like he had been waiting on purpose.
I blinked, already feeling my body tense up. “Uh . . .”
“I wanted to see if you’d let me take you to a little bistro in South Self,” he continued, leaning in like we were having some cute little moment.
It was not cute.