Chapter 13 #2
I smoothed a hand over my hips, turning side to side, checking myself from every angle.
I don’t know why, but I was nervous. I’ve been around Samir a few times, but this felt different.
I haven’t been on a date with another man besides Jerome, but Samir wasn’t my ex.
He was showing me that he was a man, not a boy.
I looked down at the strappy heels on my feet, and the white polish made the shoes pop! I added my diamond pendant around my neck, my Piaget silver watch on my wrist, and some diamond studs in my earlobes.
“For me, it does! But all jokes aside, Nova, I’m so happy for you. I know this is the beginning stage of y’all’s relationship, but I am rooting for you both.”
“Nyala, we are not in a relationship.”
“Hm! Sure, that’s what they all say at first.” She teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “But I see the way he looks at you, girl. The way he smiles when you walk in a room… Don’t try to act like you don’t feel it too.”
I rolled my eyes, heat rising to my cheeks. She wasn’t wrong. I’d been trying to deny it and convince myself it was nothing but great sex. The truth was, I felt it every time Samir was around. That pull, that tension—it was driving me crazy.
“You play too much sometimes.” I sat on the chaise next to Nyala.
“Or maybe… You’re just not paying attention.” She shot back, leaning closer, her grin daring me. “I can see it in your eyes, Nova. He’s got you all kinds of twisted, and you know it.”
I swallowed hard, my stomach flipping.
Yeah, he does. And I don’t even want it to stop.
I laughed nervously instead of admitting the truth out loud. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re in trouble because you’re loving every second of it.” She giggled, leaning back on the chaise.
I did—I was indeed loving every second of Samir’s attention. But the voice in the back of my mind also said that I should tell Samir about my fertility issues before things went too far. I also couldn’t help but think that if things didn’t work out, I was doing all this worrying for nothing.
Just as my mind began to wander, there was a knock on my front door.
I was confused because the doorman didn’t call me and announce that I had a visitor.
I went to see who it was, looking through the peephole, and all I saw was a huge bouquet of roses blocking my view.
The uncomfortable beat in my chest told me who it was.
I opened the door, and there stood Samir.
He was dressed in a black, short-sleeved button-up that hugged his broad shoulders and black jeans that were perfectly fitted.
His signature smirk that could make a grown woman weak in the knees sat on his handsome face.
My breath hitched before I even had a chance to speak.
The roses in his hands somehow didn’t matter; they were just a background character to him, standing there, looking like he walked straight out of my daydreams.
“Hey, Nova baby. You look sexy as fuck, woman.” He licked his lips.
“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I smiled. “Are those for me?” I nodded to the flowers. “I didn’t take you to be a gentleman, Samir.” I joked.
He handed me the flowers. “Oh, I’m a gentleman when I need to be.”
“Ha! Thank you. They are beautiful.” I stepped to the side to let him in, but he pulled me into him and laid a passionate kiss on my lips that made my legs weak. His hands gripped my ass in the process, and I couldn’t help but yelp.
“Heyyy, Samir! Whew! Let me get out of here! Y’all sexual chemistry be having me hot and bothered. I’ll pay to watch one of y’all sessions just one time,” Nyala’s voice rang out from the living room.
“Girl, can you not?”
“Nah, ’cause I ain’t even lying, so I just had to say it!” Nyala grabbed her purse off the couch and walked over to me. She kissed me on the cheek, waved goodbye to us, and went switching out of the door.
“Your friend is interesting.” We both laughed before he asked, “Are you ready, baby?”
“Yes. Just let me put these in some water, grab my purse, and I’ll be ready.”
I closed the door and went to put my flowers in a vase. After filling the glass vessel with water, we were on our way after making sure I had everything. When we got outside, I was shocked to see Samir had a driver for us tonight. My heart skipped a beat.
He really went all out… I thought, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves twist in my stomach.
We climbed in the back, and my anxiety started to disintegrate.
We talked as we rode to our destination.
Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to a tall building in the city.
Samir helped me out, and we entered the building, riding the elevator to the top floor.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.
Stepping out onto the top floor, I felt dizzy as I took in the setting.
The space opened into a stunning rooftop restaurant.
The city lights glittering below like stars scattered across the skyline.
The place was empty, except for the soft glow of candles on the tables.
It felt intimate, almost private, like the whole city had been reserved just for us.
A hostess appeared from the side, smiling warmly. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. Your table is ready. Right this way, please.”
Samir offered me his arm, and I took it, giving him the side-eye about his listing me as his wife on the reservation.
I didn’t speak about it in front of the hostess, though.
She led us to the outside deck, where a single table had been set up with flickering candles, fine glassware, and a beautiful view of the city skyline.
The gentle night breeze carried the faint hum of the busy society below.
I was reward with the subtle scent of Samir’s cologne as the draft passed me.
“So, you rented out the whole restaurant?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want everyone in our face or the cameras capturing our every moment. We are still trending and shit.” He chuckled.
“That’s not funny. My bakery has been busy nonstop since. Although I appreciate the business, I know most of the women that come in are hoping to see you.” I pursed my lips.
“Look at your man… Already looking out, and we just got together.”
“You know what? I’m not even going to respond to that.” I laughed.
A few minutes later, we ordered our drinks and food. I had the lobster tail, shrimp scampi, and a side salad. Samir ordered steak, a baked potato, and roasted carrots.
We ate and drank while talking about everything, from our childhoods and favorite things to do to our favorite foods and even our businesses.
I was genuinely enjoying the conversation and could honestly say I’d never had one quite like it.
Samir was incredibly intelligent, even though he could be so arrogant at times—but I liked that about him.
There was something magnetic about the way he carried himself.
The confidence that bordered on being cockiness, but somehow felt natural.
And the way he hung on to each word I spoke made me feel seen, like what I said mattered more than anything else in the room.
I caught him leaning slightly forward, eyes locked on mine, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, whenever I said something witty or teased him back.
At one point, he reached across the table, brushing his fingers against mine while laughing at something I said, and my chest fluttered like a drumline.
God, he does this on purpose, I thought, heat rising in my cheeks.
Even the way he listened, his full attention on me, made it impossible not to feel drawn to him.
I realized then that it wasn’t just the food, the wine, or the rooftop view; it was him.
It was the way Samir made me feel: light, excited, and just a little dizzy, that had me ready to give in to whatever he demanded of me.
After we finished eating, Samir suggested we take a little stroll along the rooftop deck, letting the city lights wash over us. The night air was cool, and the traffic below was steady. I felt my nerves settle even more as we walked side by side.
Once back at the car, I was surprised but not shocked that Samir had our next destination planned and ready. “Where are we headed now?” I asked, curiously.
“You’ll see,” he said with that smirk that always made my stomach flip.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at a cozy studio tucked in a quieter part of the city.
The soft glow from the windows promised something intimate, creative, and just a little daring.
As we stepped inside, the scent of paint and turpentine mingled with the faint notes of music playing in the background.
Easels were set up around the room, each with canvases and palettes waiting for eager hands.
And there, in the center of the room, was a live model completely nude, standing poised and confident—the very picture of elegance and raw form. I quickly glanced at Samir, whose expression was a mix of amusement and intrigue.
“Nude paint and sip?” I giggled. I had always wanted to attend one of these, but never got the chance to with my schedule.
“Thought we’d try something different tonight. You cool with this?”
“Yes! I always wanted to do one of these. Crazy how you thought of this.”
“See, I’m learning you, baby. We are going to be ‘couple goals,’ for sure.”
I laughed, shaking my head as we followed the hostess inside. “Couple goals? Don’t you think that’s thinking ahead kinda fast?”
“Maybe. Or maybe… I just know what I want.” His voice dipped low on the last word, and the way he said it made my stomach flip, so I opted not to respond.
The studio was softly lit, mellow R&B floating through the air.
Tables were already set with canvases, brushes, and glasses of wine.
The model stood at the center, draped loosely in a silk robe, waiting for the session to start.
Samir pulled out my chair for me, and I sat, trying to ignore how my pulse sped up at the small gesture.
“Go ahead and order us some drinks,” he said, leaning close enough for his breath to tickle my ear. “Something that’ll keep that smile on your face.”
I smiled, glancing at him over my shoulder. “You got jokes.”
“Nah, I got plans.” He winked, causing me to cackle.
“Well, I think I’ll skip the alcohol.”
By the time the first hour passed, the paint, wine, and quiet music had me feeling both relaxed and tipsy. I set my brush down for a second and leaned over to glance at Samir’s canvas. My eyes widened, then I burst out laughing.
“Lordy!” I said between laughs, pointing at the painting, “This doesn’t even look like the model! Wait! Is that supposed to be me?”
He glanced at me as I leaned closer to the canvas. My eyes widened when I saw what he painted. The woman in his painting was lying on a bed on her stomach, with her hair sprawled over the pillow. The small cupcake tattoo on her back was identical to mine. My mouth dropped open.
“Samir!” I started laughing so hard that I had to cover my mouth. “You… You actually put me on the canvas like this? Naked?!”
He shrugged. “Artistic liberty. You should feel flattered, love. I mean, who wouldn’t want to paint a masterpiece like you?”
I shook my head, still laughing, but heat crept up my neck. “You are impossible. Absolutely impossible. I can’t believe you.”
“Believe it. I still can’t get that visual out of my head, seeing you sleep in my bed this morning. That shit was beautiful, Nova baby. And maybe later, you can give me a repeat.”
I couldn’t help but smile as if I weren’t a thirty-year-old woman, but a stupid little schoolgirl.