Love Notes (Equilibrium Book 1)

by Christina C Jones

  And now, here I was.

  Days later, up past midnight, with Mia’s stupid ass pretty face on my screen. I hadn’t seen her – or Troy, for that matter – again since that day, but I was sure it was only a matter of time.

  I had a rule though.

  I didn’t fight, didn’t argue over men, because no one – not him or the woman he had acting crazy – was going to take up precious real estate in my life.

  With that said, I liked Troy. And since Mia hadn’t been able to offer a rebuttal to Andrea’s assertion that she was old news, I wasn’t inclined to avoid him because of her. Honestly… I was tempted to go ahead and really snatch him up, just to throw it in her face. But that was a level of vindictiveness I’d put behind me, and a manipulation that Troy didn’t deserve. I wouldn’t risk hurting someone else just to be petty.

  I’d sure love to see the look on her face though.

  I was smiling at the thought when a knock sounded at the door. A glance at the time in the bottom corner of my computer screen confirmed that it was past “unexpected guest” hours. If Anika were home, I would assume that it was someone for her, but she’d gone with Aunt Darcy to the wedding of someone from Uncle Will’s side, who I didn’t know. Reluctantly, I pulled myself out of my chair to go to the door.

  A quick glance through the peephole left me quite confident that the visitor wasn’t there for Anika.

  I took a fortifying breath before I opened the door only as wide as the chain latch would allow. On the other side, impish hazel eyes peered at me, gracing my face for only a moment before they traveled greedily lower, landing on my breasts in the tank top I wore, with no bra.

  “My eyes are up here,” I said, ignoring the perfection of the face those eyes belonged to. “And it’s not quite warm enough for you to be walking around without a shirt on, Josiah,” I scolded, forgetting just that quickly that I should’ve been ignoring his abs, too. “Your nipples are hard.”

  “So are yours,” he shot back, in that too-smooth tone that had cost me my panties more times than I cared to admit.

  I didn’t respond to that, verbally or physically, didn’t give him the satisfaction of crossing my arms over my chest to hide my obvious arousal. Instead, I leaned into the wall beside the door, keeping my hand on the doorknob.

  “How can I help you, Josiah?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave me a sly grin and stepped a little closer. My heart rate increased, just a notch, as he pulled the pillow-soft flesh of his bottom lip between his teeth as he dipped his head, contributing to the barely-bearable sexual tension. “Well…,” he sighed, then fixed me with a gaze that was meant to disarm. “I was hoping… maybe… to borrow a little sugar, if you have some to spare.”

  “Uh-huh,” I laughed. “Just… a little… sugar? That’s all?”

  He stepped closer, as close as he could with the chain still latched, and my hand still on the door. “Yeah. I’d be much obliged, neighbor.”

  “Oh I’m sure,” I told him, as I shifted my position in the doorway. “Since we both know how much you like my… sugar.”

  “Get so high off your love, don’t know how to behave,” he sang, literally, sounding so damn good, so much like D’Angelo that it broke right through my little defenses, and I had to close my eyes for a second before I laughed, and shook my head.

  “And that, right there, is the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know how to behave.”

  Josiah sucked his teeth, raising his arm to prop against the wall outside the door – an action that put his beautifully toned, butterscotch-brown bicep right in my view. “Come on, Jules. I thought you were on your, no commitments, screw love, get money vibe?”

  “Yes and no,” I nodded. “But, I had a resolution to stop dealing with fuckboys, so…”

  “But this is me,” he argued, not defending himself against that fuckboy allegation, because he couldn’t. “Jules… we got history. Good ass history.”

  I shrugged. “That’s where I’m trying to leave it. As history.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked, not exactly whining, but not exactly not whining either. “Look at what you do to me.”

  Even though I knew better, I followed his gaze down the smooth plane of his chest and abs to a faint dusting of hair that led to his groin. My view was abruptly interrupted by the band of his sweatpants, but there was no mistaking the too-familiar bulge of his erection.

  I cleared my throat, then lifted my eyes back to his. “You think that’s going to make me change my mind?”

  “Will it?” Josiah asked, lifting his thick eyebrows in a way that made a giggle burst from my lips before I shook my head.

  “No. You can probably take a picture though, go ahead and fire off a thirst trap that will bring another member of your harem running,” I suggested.

  He blew out a sigh, and then undraped himself from my doorway, walking backward to his own door, across the hall. “You know you’re wrong, right?”

  I smirked. “How do you figure that?”

  “Being that fine, pussy that good, living right across the hall, and you’re depriving me.”

  “I’m quite certain you’ll survive.”

  He shook his head as his hand fell onto his doorknob. “Will I though?”

  “Yes,” I laughed. “You will. Did you really think this was gonna work for you? J, before the day we saw you guys in the hall, I hadn’t seen you in years. Like half a decade. I’m not the same girl.”

  He nodded. “I can tell. You got finer with age, I know.”

  “What I’m talking about though is that I grew up.”

  “So you’re not into the casual thing anymore, or what?”

  “It’s not even that,” I shook my head. “I just… I need more than a “you up” text, or… a random knock on my door during booty call hours,” I told him, even as it played in my head that if this were Troy, my ankles would probably be on my shoulders. “I need a connection, that you and I don’t have anymore. We’ve outgrown it, J.”

  His eyebrows went up. “You’re for real right now? Like our chemistry wasn’t crazy? Like you’re not still attracted to me?”

  “Attraction isn’t it,” I snapped, remaining firm in my point. We both knew sex was off the table for tonight – now, I was just letting him know where I stood. “Am I saying you have to be my man, forsake all others? No. It can be just about the sex, but it has to be about sex that’s…. more than just something to do. Because we like the feel of each other’s skin, because we like each other. Not because I’m a warm body that will do the trick.”

  Josiah nodded like he really did get where I was coming from, which made me smile, because I wasn’t sure I “got it” myself. Two months ago, I would’ve been all over him, none of this high-and-mighty “more than just something to do” shit that was coming from… out of the blue, as far as I wanted to admit.

  But I knew better.

  I said goodbye to Josiah and took myself back to my room, where I shut my computer down instead of going back to those pictures. I had enough for what I wanted to do, and any further deliberation on it would just lead me into further annoyance about Mia, when I wasn’t trying to give her that kind of space in my head.

  I needed it to figure out this thing with Troy.

  “Boy, I know you don’t think I’m about to give you the answer, do you?”

  Troy looked up at me with wide eyes, holding the camera with one hand so that he could use the other to grab mine. “Come on, Ms. Nichols. Please?” he asked, running his tongue over his lips, looking exactly like the kind of trouble that would get my ass fired if he were really my student.

  I was powerless against those eyes.

  “I’ll tell you this one more time, okay?” I told him, taking a seat beside him on the bench we’d pulled out specifically for this. Instead of pulling the camera from his hands, I leaned in, using my finger to indicate the settings on the screen. “We opened up those blinds in the front, so that changed our lighting conditio
ns. The test shot you took just now, what was wrong with it?”

  “It was too bright. Everything was so blown out that you can’t see anything.”

  “Meaning…?”

  He frowned. “It’s overexposed?”

  “Right. And how do we fix overexposure?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “But you already know. What are the three main things?”

  “Uh… shit. Um… ISO? And shutter speed?”

  I nodded. “And…?”

  “F-stop?”

  “Or, aperture. Right. So if your image is collecting too much light, we need to look at all of those. So… show me.”

  He cringed over it, but I was confident that he actually knew what to do already. That confidence proved to be well placed, because I watched with pride as he lowered his ISO, and then took a test shot. Went for shorter shutter speed, then took a test shot. Raised his aperture a few steps, and then, just as he was supposed to, took another test shot, then turned the camera to me with a smirk, wanting to show me what he’d done.

  “Perfect,” I told him. “You have now successfully corrected your exposure, and taken an excellent picture of our test subject,” I grinned, looking away from the camera to where Storm had settled into a corner in my studio, using a blanket I’d knocked off the shelf earlier as her personal throne.

  She’d followed Troy in here hours ago, for what was supposed to be another photography lesson. Not that it wasn’t, but it had been more than that too – a fun, laid-back interaction that did exactly nothing to help clear the confusion from my mind.

  Ever since Josiah knocked on my door two nights ago, I’d been unsettled. Well… more unsettled, when it came to Troy. I’d been so clear with myself about my intention to not get involved with anyone, to enjoy myself but not get attached. But then I messed around and told Josiah I needed something deeper than an emotionless fling, before I’d even consciously come to that awareness on my own. And now that the cat was out of the bag on that, I realized just how connected to Troy I already was.

  I couldn’t help it.

  Wasn’t sure I wanted to help it.

  Not when I was finally settling into something I hadn’t experienced in a long time – or hell, maybe ever. I was happy, all around. Not happy in one area, miserable in another, kinda okay over here, just… happy.

  And I had every intention of soaking it all up.

  “Yeah, I guess my teacher has been aiight,” Troy shrugged, smirking as he stood to put his camera back into its bag. “I suppose you deserve a little credit.”

  I laughed. “Uh huh. You can keep your credit, I don’t need it. How about you put these strong biceps to use like you promised, and hang these pictures up for me?”

  He scrunched up his face. “I said I would do that? Today?”

  “Yes, you did,” I reminded him. “Remember, we called it an even trade?”

  Troy’s gaze left me, moving along the wall to the stack of the framed images propped against the floor, waiting to grace the walls of my studio. This was actually a task I’d done before, then took them all down to choose different, more cohesive shots for the mood I wanted in the studio. Instead of the black and white I’d previously chosen, these were all in vivid color.

  “I don’t know… those look pretty big, and I kinda have something else I’m supposed to be doing in a little bit.”

  My hands moved to my hips. “Are you—”

  “Damn, you were about to get really mad weren’t you?” Troy interrupted, chuckling as he approached me. “Relax, mama,” he said, briefly cupping my chin before he moved on, walking over to the framed pictures. “I told you I would help, and that’s what I plan to do.”

  “You’re gonna stop playing with me like that,” I scolded, even as I took a deep breath to try to calm my racing heart. Those “mamas” he liked to throw around, and the fact that he’d touched me like that – even though it was brief, and innocent – stirred something in me.

  “You ain’t gone do shit,” he teased, making me laugh.

  We spent the next hour hanging those frames, talking and laughing like we’d been doing all morning, until we came to the last one. Troy picked it up, studying it as he carried it to the last empty hook, right beside my office.

  “This is an interesting shot…” he mused as he hung it and then stepped back, staring like he was trying to figure it out. “Who gets a tiny warning symbol tattooed over their heart?”

  I moved to stand beside him, studying the shot. A nude female torso, composed so that the face was outside of the frame, and although you could see the curve of breasts, it cut off just before the darkening of the areolas on either side. The symbol, done in red and black ink, rested right over the heart. A rounded rectangle, with an exclamation set into the middle.

  “I do.”

  It wasn’t even the size of my pinky nail. Maybe half that. Something I’d done years ago, in a fit of… I don’t know. I couldn’t articulate it then, and still couldn’t now.

  “You serious?” Troy asked, his gaze going immediately to my chest, even though my shirt wasn’t cut low enough for it to be visible right now. Rolling my eyes, I tugged my shirt down a bit, showing him the tattoo that most people didn’t give a second look, probably thinking it was a mole, freckle, or scar because of the size.

  “How the hell did I not see this the night we…”

  I shrugged. “Pretty sure once my dress was off, my nipples got all your attention.”

  “Sounds about right,” he smirked, reaching out to run his fingers over the miniscule tattoo. “What does this mean though? Is it a warning for us, or a reminder for you?”

  “A reminder for me,” I told him with a playful shove, feigning offense. “Why would I need to come with a warning? Jules is good for you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know about all that. I’m really trying to understand your tat though.”

  “What’s understood doesn’t need to be explained though.”

  “I just said I didn’t understand though.”

  “Then maybe… it’s not for you to know?”

  Both eyebrows went up then, and he nodded. “Okay. I can accept that.”

  “Nah, I’m kidding,” I laughed. “It’s just… one of those things I’m not really sure how to put into words. I got it when I was nineteen years old. Angry and confused. Reminding myself to be careful with my heart, after having it pretty badly stomped on. It’s a fragile thing, so… we have to act like it.”

  Troy nodded. “Can’t say I disagree. So how do you go about it?”

  “Go about what? Protecting my heart?” I let out a dry laugh as I shrugged. “Uh… by trying not to get it involved. Having fun, going with the flow, but being mindful.”

  “Trying?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Yeah…” he pushed his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “You said trying not to get your heart involved.”

  “Oh! Well… sometimes you can’t help it.”

  I didn’t have time to be embarrassed over the implications of what I’d just let spill out, because my stomach chose that moment for a loud, growling complaint about my lack of a meal before I’d rushed to the studio this morning. So, I got to be embarrassed about that instead.

  “Aiight, so on that note,” Troy said, openly laughing at me, “how about I go grab us some late lunch, come back, we eat, and then I can re-hang those backdrops up front for you. Cause right now, they look a little shaky.”

  “Really?!” I gasped, rushing to the main studio where they were. They’d looked fine to me when Anika and I hung them, weeks ago, but now that he mentioned it… “Oh God…”

  “Don’t even sweat it. I got you when I get back. You allergic to anything? Got any special requests?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Pot Liquor,” he said, in a “duh” sort of tone. “Charlie only does those baked sticky wings once a week, and today is the day,” he added, rubbing his hands together.


  “Well I definitely need to try some of those,” I told him. “And some of that mac and cheese. And salad.”

  “Wings, salad, mac and cheese. Got it. I’ll be back.”

  “Okay.”

  Once he left, I let out a deep breath as I shook my head.

  There’s no good reason for him to be that fine.

  That wasn’t a complaint though – his good looks were a much less dangerous thing to focus on than the fact that he was funny, and interesting, and… kind. It was an underrated quality these days, when so many men were so emotionally underdeveloped that it was considered a normal thing – the mark of being a man. Sure, I didn’t know him well enough to brand him some paragon of maturity, but there was a depth there that left no question in my mind that in dealing with Troy, I was dealing with… a man. Not a cheap parody of one.

  I had a smile on my face as I took a step back, admiring the changes in the studio. It was coming along beautifully, which only served to raise my level of excitement about the launch party I was planning for a few weeks from now.

  It was Uncle Will’s idea, and I couldn’t help laughing thinking about it even now. “Uppity negros on social media and reality TV have a party for everything. If they can have a party to tell us if a baby has a dick or not, baby girl can have a party for her pictures. Anybody got a problem, tell them I said so. And tell all those new Blacks in Mahogany Heights they better show up, too.”

  He’d said that to Aunt Darcy while we were all on a group call, and of course, she and Anika had run with it. Nothing had been made public yet, but I had very little doubts that “lack of attendance” would be an issue, not with Anika in charge.

  I could already see it in my mind – great music, good food, generous alcohol, and my pictures lining the walls, on display for everyone to see. That mental image brought up a warm, tingly feeling that made me grin even harder, until I heard the distant chime of my cell phone ringing.

  I jogged down to my office where I’d left it, trying to catch the caller before they hung up. I didn’t recognize the number, but that didn’t mean much since I hadn’t even been here long.