“Is that what you really think about love? Taking a chance? Baby Girl, you are an amazing woman and you deserve to be happy. Give it a shot. You cannot win a race until you get in it.”
I took the vase of flowers, went into my office, and closed the door as Lilibeth turned back to her computer screen. She had a point and she and I both realized it.
I removed the card and read it:
Jemistry,
I hope your day is going well and that you’ll consider going away with me this weekend. I want to spend some time alone in isolation with you. No pressure. Just good conversation and exploring life together. Call me.
Tevin
* * *
I read the card at least a dozen more times that afternoon, wavering in my decision to take him up on his offer or refuse. Tevin definitely didn’t give off the kind of vibe that he would force me to have sex. In all honesty, I was more worried about being able to control myself. Taking what we were doing to a sexual level meant catching feelings. I would not be able to disconnect myself emotionally like I did with Anthony and Gregory, the other dude that I had been sleeping with on and off for about a year. I had not gone to be with either of them since that last time with Anthony when I started feeling guilty.
What was there to really be afraid of? If I got officially involved with Tevin, and it did not work out, it was n
ot like the entire world would know it. It wasn’t like it would end up in a book, or anything ridiculous like that. Outside of Winsome and Lilibeth knowing that Tevin had run a game on me like every man prior to him, no one would have to know.
Up to that point, Tevin and I had only shared kisses. Many, many awesome kisses. One time I even had an orgasm and it scared me. I had never had an orgasm from a kiss, which made me petrified about what he might do to me with his dick.
There was a cold, hard truth staring me in the face that could no longer be ignored: I wanted him.
Chapter Eight
“True love isn’t easy but it must be fought for, because once you find it, it can never be replaced.”
—Unknown
Winsome and I were walking out of the Regal Theaters at Gallery Place.
She was shaking her head in disbelief. “If I had known that was what that movie was about, I wouldn’t have come.”
“I heard that it was going to be sad, but I wasn’t quite ready for all that either.”
We had gone to see Fruitvale Station, based on the true story of Oscar Grant III, a twenty-two-year-old Bay Area resident who was shot and killed by BART police on New Year’s Day in 2009.
“That entire cast was amazing,” I added. “If that movie isn’t nominated for the Academy Awards, something is wrong.”
“I haven’t cried in a movie since I can remember. I felt that mother’s pain and I’m not even a mother.”
“Well, one of us better hurry up and have a baby before our pussies dry up,” I said jokingly. “It would be good to have at least one kid around.”
“Jemistry, you’re around kids day in and day out.”
“They’re teenagers; not the same thing. Most of them had to grow up so fast that they could damn near hang out with us.”
We both laughed.
“I’m not cooking, so want to grab something to eat?” Winsome asked.
“Lazy ass. It’s your turn to cook.”
“Exactly, and that’s why I’m saying that I’m not doing it. You’d better either grab something on the way home, eat that Greek yogurt in the fridge that expired last week, or starve.”
I slapped her playfully on the arm. “Let’s go pig out somewhere and then go to the gym and ditch the calories.”
“Sounds like a plan.”