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Loving You Through Our Differences

Page 9

by Tucora Monique

We both were wearing sunglasses but that didn’t stop the jolt we experienced when we looked at one another, and even my wary of love ass had to recognize our energy.

  A second later, the host interrupted our stare down and escorted us over to our table. He moved to pull out my chair, but Leiland let him know it wasn’t necessary and took over the task. I looked at Leiland’s outfit choice and was impressed.

  He was wearing a pair of black, straight-legged slacks that hit just at the top of his loafers with thin royal blue stripes running vertical. His shirt was simple, a short-sleeved, white button-down that he rolled the sleeves up on. Or maybe he brought it that way. I don’t know, but either way, I liked it. It allowed his tattoos to breathe. The suede, blue loafers that had a splash of black and gold on the top weren’t missed either. Daddy was killing my little sundress and nude heels. I subconsciously fingered my pineapple up-do and removed the I Love Lucy style frames that covered my face.

  “Here are your menus. Would you like to start with an appetizer or drink before ordering your meal?” our waiter asked before we could start a conversation.

  “Actually, we won’t be dining here for a full course, only appetizers.”

  A small squeak escaped from my lips. Leiland paused and looked across the table at me.

  “Give us a moment,” he told her observing me.

  I was still wondering why the hell we couldn’t get a full meal as I watched her walk away. I sat back and folded my arms across my chest.

  See, if I would’ve fucked him and left it there, I wouldn’t have known his well-dressing ass was so cheap.

  What a way to start a date…

  Leiland

  “Something I’ve learned about you over our time together is you can’t ever make your mind up. Even when you and I talk during the day, you’ll say what you’re going to do after work and change it twenty times before you’ve clocked out. Taking that into consideration, I decided to take you to a different spot for each course of our meal. When we leave from here, there’s a nice Mexican restaurant a block away that we’ll hit next. Arrangements for your car have already been made. So again, take a minute to look over the menu, or do I need to decide for you?” I finished with a smile that matched the one that eased across her pretty ass face.

  I watched as she scanned the menu, large eyes bouncing over the laminated catalogue. Neat curls were pulled up, shining at the top of her head with the exception of a few flyaways. I loved the style because it left her neck and shoulders exposed. One of the sexiest colors on a woman was smeared across Sparx’s full, heart-shaped lips, and I couldn’t avoid the image of them being wrapped around my dick from popping up in my head. I knew a replica of them painted fire red would look crazy tatted on my collarbone or on my chest close to my heart.

  Breaking the silence, I dropped the bouquet in the center of the table. Even with her skin tone being as dark as a brunette, I could see her turn a tint of red.

  “Oh my God, Greyson, these are fucking beautiful! How the hell did you get such rare flowers. Kisses are hard as hell to find?” She shut her eyes and breathed deeply.

  I was leaning all the way back in the small, wooden chair with my long legs extended into the aisle, her response made me feel good. So much so that for two seconds I forgot Jupiter was the one who’d picked them out.

  “I had Jupiter pick them up for me, but I’m happy you like them. I’m usually able to just pick up a few roses on the corner by the freeway, but I knew I couldn’t try that with you, Ms. Martha Stewart herself.”

  “Wow, aren’t I special? I don’t know if that was a dig for me being locked up before or my love for flowers, but either way, I’ll take it. I might have to keep you around a little longer, Mr. Greyson,” she teased, sniffing the flowers but looking over at me.

  “Might? I paid a lot for that smile on your face. You don’t have much of a choice, Sparx.”

  “There’s always a choice, Greyson,” she said more serious than I thought the mood required. I had to quickly chase away my past demons from slithering out at her words.

  This wasn’t about history, it was about Billie.

  “Not in this situation. When you put your nose in that bouquet and took a whiff, you sealed your fate. We a thing now, Sparx. May as well get used it.” I reached for the glass of lemon water the waitress had dropped off.

  “Want to make a toast to us?” I asked, being obnoxious. I was only messing with Sparx because I knew her issues with commitment. She had shared that her childhood fucked her up and that she’d been closed off for years. I think it was more of reminder to her than me, but I acknowledged her feelings. I wouldn’t take away from her experiences. Though I knew it was only a wall that could be gutted, I allowed her to believe she had control of what was happening between us even though she wasn’t running anything but her mouth.

  “After everything I’ve told you about me, you still want to date me? I’ve openly told you I have three dudes in rotation that I fuck…” The waitress hit an about-face at Sparx’s language.

  “Her ass needs to grow up, acting like she’s never heard the word fuck before.”

  My eyes almost popped out of my head at how loud she repeated it. I won’t lie, it shocked me, but her rawness was sexy. I spent too many years in a motorcycle bar to get shook at the mention of profanity, but I’d honestly never heard it produced with such ease from a woman.

  “Why do you curse so much, Sparx?” I asked her.

  “Because I’m grown, and I can.” She sassed, neck rolling and lips tight. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable, Leiland?”

  “Nothing you do makes me uncomfortable. Your antics aren’t as lethal as you think, lady. You stand at maybe five-feet-three and weigh less than I bench pressed in high school. I’m not afraid of you, so don’t flatter yourself, Billie. I asked because I notice you use a lot of profanity, and I was curious to know if there was a real reason besides, you grown and you can,” I mocked her, making sure to roll my neck and eyes like she had.

  “For your information, I’m five-foot-four.” She paused, shrugging her shoulders. “And it’s just a force of habit, I guess. Plus, I like to curse, damn it.”

  I found joy in the tension now on her face. I could tell explaining herself had her tight, but she didn’t have a choice; just like I said earlier.

  “People equate using profanity with stupidity. I don’t agree with that. You articulate the way you like, and I do the same.”

  “I understand what you mean, but you’re a lady—” Before I could finish my sentence, Sparx cut me off.

  “No shit,” she responded, fondling her own breast as if I had pointed out the obvious.

  “You better stop doing that before one of those puppies start barking.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt you speak dog, Mr. Greyson. All men do.”

  “And let you tell it, so do some women.” I chuckled, taking a swig of the Corona I’d requested.

  “Touché.”

  We decided to share the restaurant’s most popular dish, Hot Cheetos Mac and Cheese. I could tell the intimacy of eating together had her uneasy. She wouldn’t look at me until she thought I was no longer watching her.

  “So we may as well get the cliché shit out the way. Tell me more about yourself, Leiland. Well, more than what you’ve disclosed over the phone. I want to look you in your eyes and see if you’re keeping it real. You know, body language is a muthafucka,” she said smartly.

  “What do you want to know, Sparx? I thought we covered the basics.”

  “Why do you call me Sparx? I’m not a damn dog, so the pet name is a no go. And we don’t know each other well enough for nicknames. Two months doesn’t exactly scream best friends.”

  Rubbing her hands down the silhouette of her body, it was obvious she was making herself nervous trying to talk me out of wanting to be more than casual with her because of time.

  “Your skin sparkles like there’s gold pieces and chocolate mixed together inside. It’s beautiful, and initially,
that was my reason for the name. Then I spoke to you and you were no joke, could start a damn fire with that mouth of yours. You’re the only woman I call that, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I explained.

  “Are there men you call that?” she asked jokingly.

  “Don’t play with me. You heard what I just said.”

  She raised her hands up with her palms facing me. “Hey, nowadays you never know. You’re a cutie. I’m sure the boys would love you. Got the whole ‘ginger thing’ going on with the red hair.”

  I saw our food being brought over and thanked God for the diversion.

  Wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes, Sparx looked at me. “I’m sorry, handsome.”

  “Are you done?”

  “Don’t be mad. You said I could ask you anything.” She shrugged before reaching across the table and grabbing my hands.

  “Dear, Heavenly Father, thank you for the food we are about to receive. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  Digging her fork into the cheesy appetizer, she continued, “How about I’m willing to listen to anything you’re willing to share. I’m not picky.”

  “Lies.”

  “I’m for real. I can be a bit indecisive as you’ve pointed out, but I’m not picky. I’m a very well-rounded person for your information. Being forced to choose one thing in a world of possibilities is what’s difficult.” A web of cheese caught her chin, and I wanted to lick it off. I admired her willingness to be herself in front of me. I’ve gone on dates with grown women who won’t eat because they’re afraid of how they may be perceived. Now, what kind of sense does that make? I’ll be twenty-eight this year. I didn’t have time for bullshit like that.

  “Think of it like this. If you take me to Baskin Robbins, bet I’m willing to try over half the flavors. But then you do the most unfair shit by forcing me to only pick only one? Sounds like you’re the one with problem.”

  “Too much of anything can be trouble. You may not be picky, but everyone has a preference, even you, Billie Bad Ass. If while in that same ice cream shop, the owner told you you could only choose one, which flavor are you going with?”

  Without a second thought, she moaned, “Vanilla.”

  Damn.

  “You swear you’ve got game woman,” I said in between chuckles. I could see why she had folks thinking she was hot shit.

  I pulled her hand that rested on the table towards me. Lifting it, I placed a kiss on the inside of her palm.

  The gesture was something I’d gotten from my ma. She would do it to my sisters and I when we were kids and needed to calm down for whatever reason. In some cultures, it’s viewed as serene, more than a kiss to the cheek or forehead.

  “Interesting.” She purred once I released her hand.

  I took the lead, “Gin, Vodka, or Tequila?”

  “The fact that you didn’t even include dark has me looking at you funny. Whiskey all day. Sugar or Salt?”

  “Salt.”

  “Same. Who forgives quicker for cheating? Men or Women?

  Stopping, I didn’t know if it was a trick question.

  “I don’t understand the silence. ‘Yeah, she cheated, but she’ll never do it again,’ said no man ever,” she declared.

  “Why even ask me a question if you’re going to answer it yourself?”

  “Shut up,” she replied, snickering again.

  “I know your favorite movie is Fight Club. What’s one you hate?”

  “Training Day,” I countered, without having to think hard.

  “What the hell! I will leave your ass at this table. You’re trippin’. Training Day is a classic.”

  “A classic for who? To have a black cop manipulating a young, white rookie. Nah, that’s some bullshit. We all know that’s not usually how it goes down.”

  Being dramatic she held her chest. “Wow. Thank you for your service, we appreciate that my brotha, but you’re still tripping. Redeem yourself, fast. Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings?”

  “Both. They both have amazing graphics, dope concepts, and cool actors.”

  “Thank God.”

  I shook my head at her theatrics; they were cute.

  “What’s your unpopular opinion?” I asked.

  “That people are born gay.”

  “You really believe that?” I questioned with my brows scrunched.

  “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

  “What’s something you feel people take for granted the most?”

  “Time. Most of us live as if we have so much of it. We don’t,” she said calmly and sure of herself. I waited to see if she would elaborate, she didn’t.

  “What’s your super power?”

  “My brain damn near stops working sometimes, but I survive it. I think your people refer to it as epilepsy. Yours?”

  “My brain stores images and trauma more than the average person. Your people have named it eidetic memory. I think they should have named it Sparks.” She grinned as we bared our flaws.

  “Dream vacation?”

  “You first,” I offered.

  “France. Provence to be exact. They have this lavender field that is breathtaking. It’s the prettiest in the winter. It may sound dumb, but I would love to lay in the middle of the field and mediate. Sip wine while the sun sets—”

  “That in no way sounds dumb. What’s the hold up?” I inquired.

  “Well...” she said with an exasperated breath. “To be honest, it’s a place I discovered when I was away. Since I’ve been home, my life has revolved around starting anew. I haven’t earned that trip yet.”

  “You told me you’ve been home over four years. You also just said time is taken for granted too often.” I challenged.

  “True, but some dreams are bigger than others, like Crunch, my cereal bar. I can’t take my savings and use it all on a trip.”

  “Oh, but you can. There’s always choices, remember? You said that, Sparx,” I commented with a smirk.

  Playfully, she tossed her napkin across the table at me.

  Got her ass.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to just be open and tell me, but I see I’m going to have to ask, lady. What did you go to prison for?”

  “Damn. Just throw it on the table huh?”

  “Indeed.”

  “I got caught up with credit card fraud. Started thinking with my pockets and not my head, and by the time I noticed, it was too late. I was seventeen and committed a federal crime, so they locked me up. I stayed at Westside until I turned eighteen. After that, they shipped me off. The judge gave me five to ten, and I got out earlier on good behavior. I know my sentence was so light because I didn’t have any priors. I held on to that as a blessing the entire time.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “Don’t get caught,” she said sharply. “I’m just fucking with you,” she giggled. “Nah, but seriously. I learned that everything done in the dark will come to the light eventually. When I was younger, my mom would tell me God blessed me with my special memory because I’m favored, and I took it and used it for the work of the devil.”

  “Well, maybe you should stop lifting flowers from you job.” I clowned.

  “Shut up. Enough about me. How long have you known Latif and my cousin?”

  “We met about four years ago. It was right before he started dating your cousin. It’s still crazy that I hadn’t met you before now. I’ve been around Jupiter and met Eleven previously.”

  “I know you told me you moved here from Nevada. Did you live near the strip or a corny side city?” She clowned, and I laughed with her.

  “Nah, we lived in Sin City. My ma raised us alone, and at that time, she only had me and my sister, Percy. Being in her late teens and not making enough to care for us like she wanted as a housekeeper, she became a showgirl. She danced at the MGM for seven years before feeling she was too old and needing to do something more productive. We moved to Gardena, California shortly after. I don’t know what she thought, but that transition wasn’t
the smoothest. Had to stay in a trailer home for a few years because we couldn’t afford anything else without drowning in debt. We were actually doing better in Vegas.”

  When I mentioned that part of my autobiography, Sparx’s face shifted, her eyes dropped sadly, and she stopped playing in our plate of food. That’s what I didn’t need, pity. “I’m not telling you all of this to have you looking at me like I’m a human traffic victim stripped from her ailing grandmother.”

  She shrieked. “That was rude!”

  “I know. It didn’t sound as harsh in my head.” I smiled.

  I looked on as she carefully grabbed her cup of lemon water and wrapped her lips around the straw. I had something else I would have loved for her to wrap her full lips around. As if she read my mind, I watched in a slight state of shock as she harshly bit the plastic. I got the hint and was surprised my sexual flirtation didn’t have Billie ready to pounce. She had no shame in me knowing she enjoyed sex and that it’s typically what she prefers to experience with a man over dinner. But I was happy she was taking this thing between us as more than just another sexual outlet, though I wasn’t opposed to it as an addition.

  “Let’s lighten the mood a bit ‘cause shit is getting a bit heavy. What’s your dream job? You know, if you weren’t walking around giving people tickets and shit all day. I remember you mentioned being an artist.”

  “Yeah. I’m into graphic design. I recently sent in proposal to a few companies that I would love to work with. Now I’m just waiting on a response. I can’t live comfortably with what I’m earning now, so I’m looking for some elevation.”

  “For someone who has to count his pennies, you dress fly. You got a side hustle or something I need to be aware of?” she asked jokingly, narrowing her coffee-colored eyes at me. I instantly thought to mention The Shepherds but didn’t want show my entire hand on our first date. I walked away from the organization years ago, and I was still sitting on money I made back then.

  “Thank you. I think?” I told her, hardly knowing how to take her sideways compliment. The waitress came over once more, and I let her know to bring the check.

  “Are my compliments unclear to you? Like can you tell that I’m… interested in this?” she asked with reluctance.

 

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