“No,” I said breathlessly.
I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other and walk toward my car. I opened the door and looked up, finding Grant still standing in the doorway. His muscles glistened with beauty, like his car. His abs were separated with thick lines I wanted to trace with my tongue and his hips tapered into a “V” that disappeared below his waistband and pointed the way to the promised land.
I hopped in my car, cranked the engine, and took off like a bat out of hell. I couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
I pressed my thighs together to try to quell the ache that seeing Grant in the flesh had given me, but the pressure only made things worse. My panties were damp, and my heart was pounding in my ears. I was going to have to stay far away from Hollis’ until Grant was out of town if I didn’t want to look like a love-crazed teenaged idiot in front of him again.
I pulled into the lot and turned off the car, taking a few deep breaths while I tried to settle my racing pulse. I closed my eyes but all I saw behind my lids was Grant’s broad, tattooed chest, and the flood of warmth between my legs started all over again. Dammit, I needed to get ahold of myself.
I climbed out of my car and bolted up the stairs to my place. In my haze to shake Grant from my mind, I didn’t see Ike’s car in front of my apartment. In my want to get upstairs and take a cold shower to calm myself down, I didn’t even notice the door was already unlocked. I strode through the apartment and headed straight for my room, but a voice descended onto my ears.
“Where the hell were you?”
I whipped around and saw Ike standing in the hallway, his eyes raking up and down my form.
“Jesus Ike, you scared the shit out of me!” I said, my hand over my racing heart.
“Why were you expecting someone else?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Uh, no. I was expecting to be alone. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I asked him.
“I had a break in between clients so I thought I’d stop by and surprise you. Looks like I accomplished that. So where were you?” he asked again.
“I went to go see my brother,” I said.
“No, you didn’t,” Ike said. “Try again.”
I stared at him, wondering just for a minute if he had somehow seen me on the porch with a half-naked Grant. “Yes, I did. I went to my brother’s house to return some dishes.”
“Then why are you dressed up?”
“I’m not. I’m wearing jeans and a shirt for Christ sake.”
“And makeup?”
“What’s wrong with me wearing makeup? I wear makeup every damn day.”
“For me, yes. For work, yes. Not for gallivanting around in public. And why is your shirt so low-cut?”
Annoyed, I put my hand on my hip and stuck my chin out defiantly. “Because I like it that way,” I said.
“Well, I don’t. It makes you look like you're looking for attention.”
“For fuck sake, you’re being ridiculous,” I said, growing angrier by the minute.
“Where were you?” he asked again. “I know you. I’ve known you since we were kids. You don’t get dressed up unles
s you have a reason.”
“I am not ‘dressed up’. I just went to return some stuff to my brother,” I said again, slowly so he would hear me this time.
Despite my efforts to hold them at bay, tears rose to my eyes. I was tired of the fighting, the accusations, the insinuations; but more than that, I was tired of Ike trying to control me. He hadn’t been like this in the first few years of our relationship, but as of late, he was getting worse and worse by the day. And I was about done with it.
“You wouldn’t dress like this to go see Hollis,” Ike said.
“I’m not dressed like anything! I am wearing jeans and a fucking shirt. I’m not in a miniskirt, or a halter top, or a goddamn bikini. You are being ridiculous,” I said, my voice rising with each word.
Ike stepped forward and put a finger in my face. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but it sure as fuck isn’t me.”