Let's Get It On

by Cheris Hodges

  Am I crazy? That man just left his fiancée at the altar, and he’s the same man who cheated on me in college. A few hot kisses aren’t going to change the fact that he broke my heart.

  Snatching the handle on the shower to stop the spray, she grabbed a towel, wrapped it around her wet body, and headed for her suitcase to find another outfit for her date, for which she was now late. Kenya pulled on a strapless white dress and eased into a pair of sling-back white sandals after smoothing lotion over her body. Dashing out the door, she rushed to the elevator, hoping Damon hadn’t left the restaurant.

  When the doors of the elevator opened, Kenya saw Damon turning to leave the lobby. “Damon,” she called out, jogging slightly to catch up with him. She grabbed his shoulder when she caught up to him. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Turning around, Damon smiled broadly. “You were worth the wait. We missed the sunset, though.”

  “There’ll be others, I hope,” she said.

  He clasped her hand with his. “The beach awaits us, princess.”

  Kenya blushed as they walked toward the beach. Something about the way Damon talked to her made her feel regal. He had manners, which most of the men she’d met in Atlanta and Maurice certainly didn’t have.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she gave Damon a cool once-over. He was the color of peanut butter, and his eyes sparkled, as if he held a wicked secret behind them. Maurice’s words echoed in her head. That guy’s up to no good.

  “You’re quiet,” Damon said, slowing his pace once they reached the beach.

  “I was just enjoying the view,” Kenya lied.

  Stopping and standing in front of her, he replied, “So am I. God, you’re so beautiful.” He pulled Kenya into his arms and kissed her forcefully.

  Breaking off the kiss, she took two steps back. “Damon, I didn’t come out here with you to—”

  “Dressed like that and on a secluded part of the beach with me? What did you think was going to happen?” He pulled her against his body again. “You want me, and I’m going to have you.”

  Kenya beat her fists against his chest, trying to free herself from Damon’s clutches. But he wasn’t letting her go and began pulling at her clothes.

  “Stop it! Let me go!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Get your hands off me!”

  Damon threw her down in the sand. “Shut up, bitch,” he said as he unbuckled his belt. Kenya kicked him in his groin, temporarily stunning him. She struggled to push him off her. Then, lightning quick, Damon was snatched off her. With her eyes closed, she could hear sounds of a struggle and fists hitting flesh. She was afraid to move, afraid to open her eyes, because she didn’t know what she was going to see. Was Damon overpowering her savior? Was she going to be in even more danger?

  “Kenya? Kenya, are you okay?” Maurice asked.

  She opened her eyes and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my God.”

  Maurice lifted her from the sand. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “But if you hadn’t gotten here when you did . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Let me take you back to the hotel, and we can call the police.”

  “Just get me out of here.” Her lips grazed his ear, and her voice sounded as fragile as a wounded bird’s chirp. Trembling against his chest, Kenya held his neck tightly as if she were a vise. She didn’t feel the sand that dropped from her dress, because her body was numb. Did she have victim tattooed across her forehead in ink, which only men with bad intentions could see?

  Why was I so stupid? she thought as Maurice set her down before they entered the hotel. Though her knees were shaking, she wanted to walk.

  Maurice wouldn’t let go of her hand, and with his other hand, he stroked her back comfortingly. Once they entered the lobby, Kenya realized that she didn’t want to be alone right now.

  “Don’t tell me you’re okay, because I know you’re not,” Maurice said, holding her tightly. He stroked her hair, brushing the sand from it.

  Her silence spoke volumes, and without even asking, Maurice led her to his room. Nervously, she chewed on her full bottom lip, torn between her gratitude to him for saving her from sexual assault and her anger with him. In reality, Kenya was no longer angry with Maurice, and if she was honest with herself, she would forgive him. How could she not? She had put her love life on hold, keeping on ice that part of herself that Maurice had hurt. Never had she thought they’d have a second chance, and never had she thought he would save her.

  Turning and facing him, she stared thoughtfully into his eyes. “I should’ve listened. But I was just hoping that you were jealous and trying to stop me from having a good time.”

  Laughing softly, he placed his hand on her shoulder, which was trembling. “I was jealous. But I had gotten a vibe from him that I didn’t like. Nothing happened, did it?”

  She ran her hand across her face. “No, but not from his lack of trying. What is it about me that men see and try to take advantage of?” Focusing her stare on him, Kenya really wanted that question answered.

  Stroking her cheek, Maurice stared back. His eyes were blank, as if he knew he was one of the men she was talking about. She moved out of the way of his hand, no longer wanting to be touched.

  “Maybe I should go back to my room,” she said.

  “Does that creep know where you’re staying?”

  “Hell no. I’m not that stupid.”

  “No one is calling you stupid, but from . . . never mind.”

  Bristling like a cat that had been rubbed the wrong way, Kenya lashed out at him angrily. “I know you saved me from him, but by no means do you have the right to judge me. I made a mistake. I seem to do that with all the men I chose, including you.”

  “Can we take this beef between us and grill it? What happened to us happened a long time ago, and I don’t know how I can change that.”

  “You can’t, and you can’t make up for it, either,” she hissed. “Why am I even here with you?”

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he made Kenya face him. “Because I need to make things right, and there are no accidents in this world.”

  “So what was Lauryn?”

  “A mistake.”

  She pushed his hands away. “But you never said, ‘I’m sorry, Kenya.’ You never told me what she had that you didn’t have in me. I did everything for you. I loved you since we were kids, and the first chance you got to trade me in, you did.”

  “Kenya, I’m not going to explain away what I did. I can’t, because I was wrong, but I was young.”

  “No excuse, not at all.”

  Maurice perched himself on the edge of the bed. “I’m not making excuses, Kenya, but are you still holding a grudge after nine years? You know, my life hasn’t been a bowl of cherries. I’ve had my struggles and . . .”

  “NFL championship. Wow, what a struggle.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice like maple syrup.

  “She left me at the altar. That’s why I’m here with my brother.” His voice dipped low, and for a split second, tears gleamed in his eyes.

  Momentarily, Kenya reached out her hand, timidly touching his shoulder. Then she moved her hand as if her skin burned. “What happened?”

  “It just didn’t work out.”

  “Took you getting all the way to the altar to figure that out? How do I know you didn’t just walk out on her? Your history precedes you,” Kenya said as she took two steps toward the door.

  “Don’t leave.” His voice rose like that of a child not wanting a parent to leave him with his grandmother. “I’m sorry, Kenya.”

  Turning around and seeing the tears glistening in his eyes, she had to believe that his apology was genuine. Then again, he was a master manipulator. At least that was the image of him that she’d developed in her mind over the years.

  Don’t let him get to you, she thought as she chewed on her lip.

  Maurice closed the space between them. “If you walk out that door, I want you to go knowing that I never
meant to hurt you. I wanted to reach out to you. I just didn’t know how. I figured by now, some dude from back home would have swept you off your feet, and I was out of luck.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she frowned and sucked her teeth. “So, Lauryn was the consolation prize?”

  “Forget Lauryn. I’m sure she’s forgotten about me,” he snapped. “Can we talk about us and about this moment?”

  “There is no us.” Kenya opened the door and stormed out of the room. Though her heart was conflicted, she couldn’t stay there and listen to him say the words that she’d waited all of these years to hear. Tonight was too emotionally charged. No one was speaking or thinking logically. As she walked to the elevator, her head swam in a sea of confusion. Pressing the button for the doors to open, she wondered if she and Maurice would have another chance.

  His words echoed in her head. There are no accidents in this world. Maybe their meeting had been fate.

  Chapter 8

  It took Maurice about two seconds to run after Kenya and reach the elevator just as the doors began to close. Sticking his foot in the small crack, he forced the doors open.

  “Kenya,” he said, “number one, after what happened to you tonight, I’m not letting you roam around this property alone. Secondly, I let you walk out on me one time and didn’t do anything about it, and I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Don’t do this. Just leave me alone,” she said in a voice that was as meek as a mouse. Maurice knew Kenya didn’t want him to walk away any more than he wanted to leave. Maybe it was because of what had happened on the beach, or maybe she still had a place for him in her heart.

  “You shouldn’t be alone tonight. It would make me feel better knowing that you’re safe.” He reached out and pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “I’ll sleep on the floor, by the door, if you’d like.”

  “I don’t need you to stay with me. I’ll be fine,” she said, smacking his hand away. “Maurice, don’t you, for one second, think I’m going to let you worm your way back into my life.”

  “After we leave this island, I’m sure we’ll never see each other again.”

  “I wish that were true,” she mumbled as she turned her back to him.

  “What did you say?”

  The elevator doors opened, and Kenya exited, with Maurice on her heels. “Kenya,” he called out.

  She didn’t turn around; she just slid her electronic key into the lock on her door. “I’m moving to Charlotte to start a new job. I didn’t want to take it, because I didn’t want to see you and your new bride. I’d seen enough of your impending nuptials on TV. Then the Panthers won the Super Bowl, and you were the hero. But I thought about it and decided that I would no longer let you and that tramp control my life. I left school because of you two. I changed careers because . . . Forget it.” She opened the door. “Good night.”

  Before Maurice could move, the door slammed in his face. He raised his hand to knock on the door. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her how he’d been thinking about her for the last nine years, and how that day in her dorm room, he’d wanted to stop her from leaving. He’d never been totally happy with Lauryn, not like when they were together, and he knew that their love had been pure. He wanted to tell her that he’d been blinded by sex, that breaking up with her was the manifestation of his father’s legacy.

  Momma always said that I was more like him than I wanted to believe. I guess she was right. Then came karma, he thought as he walked away. He heard the creak of a door and turned around quickly. Kenya stood there, cheeks streaked with tears, eyes red and puffy.

  “You’re right. I don’t want to be alone tonight, and even if it’s you, I need someone by my side tonight,” she whispered.

  Crossing over to her, he reached out and touched her shoulder. “I’ll sleep on the floor, by the door, if you’d like.”

  Shaking her head, she said, “You can sleep on the sofa. I think it pulls out into a bed.”

  Fighting the smile that was tickling his lips, Maurice followed Kenya into her room. Even on vacation she was still meticulous. Everything was in its place. Her clothes hung in the closet, in plastic dry-cleaners covers. Various styles of sexy sandals lined the closet floor. Maurice was digging the red, strappy sandals with the three-inch heels. Her suitcases were stacked neatly in the corner, and her laptop computer was closed on the desk. He was sure that the housekeepers didn’t mind cleaning up this room. There wasn’t a scrap of paper on the floor.

  “Are there any extra sheets or blankets?” he asked as Kenya passed him en route to the bathroom, with her bedclothes in her hands.

  “Uh, I don’t know,” she said. “Check in the bottom drawer. If there aren’t any there, we may need to call housekeeping.”

  “All right,” he said as he watched her disappear behind the white oak door. Maurice wanted to be in that bathroom, running her bathwater, slowly stripping her dress from her and massaging her shoulders with bath oil. He’d wash her hair, sensuously stroking her scalp and easing the tension with his touch. Then, in true Maurice fashion, he’d ease into the tub behind her, taking the soap from her hands and run it between her breasts, working up a thick lather. And before he would massage the soap into her skin in a sexual manner, he’d ask her if it was okay. She’d already been nearly violated, and he wouldn’t want to add to the trauma. If he was given the green light, he’d play with her nipples until they harden like brown diamonds, waiting for the kiss of his lips.

  His eyes were closed, and he was fully engrossed in his fantasy, when he heard Kenya call his name. His response was, “Yes, baby.”

  “Maurice!”

  Opening his eyes, he saw her standing there, with an oversized terry-cloth robe wrapped tightly around her body, hiding every inch of what he was dying to see, touch, feel, and taste. “Oh, I, uh . . . What’s up?” he asked, his face flushed with embarrassment.

  “I don’t even want to know what was going on in that head of yours. Did you find the blankets?” she asked, stepping back from him.

  “No, I’ll be fine, though. It’s warm in here.” Actually, he was hot, burning with a desire that he’d never felt with Lauryn. The love he’d had for Kenya all of those years ago had been inside of him, like a smoldering ember, and just a few hours in her presence had turned that nugget into a towering inferno. Why did I let you walk out of my life for Lauryn? Why does it take years and distance for people to see clearly? he thought as he watched Kenya climb into bed and pull the covers up to her chin.

  “Do you want me to turn the air-conditioning down?” he asked as she rolled herself up in the blanket.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I can’t sleep if I’m not warm.”

  “Are you sure you want to go to sleep so early? It’s not even nine yet. Why don’t we—”

  “You can do whatever you want as long as you leave me alone,” she snapped. “I just need some quiet time.”

  Maurice walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, forcing Kenya to look at him. “Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?”

  “Who are you, Dr. Phil? What part of quiet time don’t you get?” she said angrily.

  “You asked me to stay for a reason, and I don’t think it was because you wanted to ignore me and give me attitude all night.”

  Kicking out of the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, away from Maurice, and dropped her head in her hands. Though he couldn’t see her face, the shaking of her shoulders alerted him to the fact that she was sobbing. Over the years that he’d known her, Maurice had never seen Kenya cry. She was always so strong, so in control of her emotions. To see her this way made his heart lurch. Did I ever make you cry? he wondered as he timidly reached out to her, pulling her into his arms.

  “I don’t want your pity,” she whispered. “I’ve never wanted your pity, and if you’re here to ease your guilt about what happened between us, you can leave. I’ll be fine.”

  “I could never pity you, Ke
nya. I’ve always admired you, and knowing who you’ve become, pity is the last thing I feel for you.”

  Turning and looking at him with puffy red eyes, Kenya went from sad to angry in less than three seconds. “What you feel for me? You’re full of it. If you feel anything, it’s the embarrassment of getting dumped at the altar. Am I supposed to sympathize with you because you know what it feels like to have your heart trampled on? You got what you deserved.”

  “Kenya, I-I . . .”

  “Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t have the right to lash out at you. I asked you to stay with me, and this isn’t right.”

  “We need to settle this,” he said, wiping a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “If we’re going to be living in the same city, we could at least be friends. Charlotte’s big, but chances are we’re going to run into each other.”

  “Friends?” she asked, her words dripping with sarcasm, like an overturned bottle of honey.

  “Are you saying we can’t be friends?” he asked, his heart tingling, thinking that after they returned to the States, they would go back to being adversaries. Would she forget the time that they’d spent together?

  “Maurice, we’ll be civil, but I doubt we’ll ever be friends again.” She pushed out of his embrace. “I mean, why would we be? We’re adults now, and it doesn’t matter if you invite me to your parties or introduce me to your other friends. This isn’t high school or college. You have your life. I have mine. No need for them to intersect.”

  Maurice shook his head, because he wanted their lives to do more than intersect. He wanted her to be a fixture in his life, and he wanted to be a fixture in hers. He wanted to help her pick out a house in Charlotte and drive her to the furniture market in Hickory so that she could find the right furnishings for her house. He wanted her to leave a toothbrush in his bathroom and argue with him because he never had her favorite brand of juice when she spent the night.

  “Kenya.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought her lips level with his. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to taste the sweetness of her lips, feel the pinch of her nails on his skin as they made love for the first time in nearly a decade. He thought she would have wiggled away by now. But for what seemed like hours, they sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. Her hands were firmly planted on the bed, as if she didn’t want to touch him, though he wanted to feel her touch as much as he needed his next breath.