Love Notes (Equilibrium Book 1)

by Christina C Jones

  I kept going until I found myself in front of Love Notes. I dug into my bag for my keys and went inside, stopping short as soon as the lights flickered on.

  I’d forgotten about the gallery display.

  Instead of just my usual framed prints on the walls, I’d set up extra floor displays – oversized prints displayed on metal easels. Shots I loved. Shots I was proud of. And one in particular that had always meant a lot to me, because it represented what should have been.

  A beautiful Black family, seated in the grass.

  Mother, father, and daughter.

  I’d shot them back when I was in Cali – one of the shoots that made me fall in love with shooting real people, and capturing their hearts on screen. They were… everything. Happy. Funny. In love. And when that father looked at his teenaged daughter, his eyes were filled with pride, and adoration, and a desire to protect his little girl from all the ugliness in the world.

  My life should’ve looked like that, but it didn’t. And suddenly, the sight of that picture brought up an all-consuming rage I hadn’t felt in years. I dropped everything in my hands, and without even thinking about it, I stormed up to that picture and snatched it off the easel, flinging it across the room with all the power I could find. Then the easel itself was in my hands, and I was wielding it like an ax, swinging it around me to destroy everything I could reach.

  Every picture from the gallery, every framed print from the walls, the backdrops, whatever. I wanted it all gone, because this Love Notes shit was a complete lie. Maybe not to anyone else, but it was a lie I’d told myself – a fucking pipe dream.

  It was time to wake up.

  I got to the last picture in the hall – the one of me, of my tattoo, and… it was the one I couldn’t bring myself to tear down. It wasn’t until I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the high-gloss finish of the frame that I realized tears were streaming down my face, and I looked… insane.

  Shaking my head, I tread carefully around the wreckage to get back to the front door, where I found my purse and keys. I turned the lights off and locked the door behind me, trying to dry my face with my hands as I headed home – where I should’ve gone in the first place.

  I was walking through the door – and thanking my lucky stars that Anika wasn’t home – when my phone chimed with the familiar tone of a text message. Whoever it was, I made them wait, for the hour it took me to strip down, take the hottest shower I could stand for as long as I could stand, and then dress in the most comfortable hoodie and leggings I could find.

  A smile came to my face when I saw that the message was from Troy, wondering what I was doing. Apparently, Marshall had just left, and he wanted to tell me all about their conversation.

  Exactly the kind of distraction I needed.

  I wasted no time going to my closet for an overnight bag, only stopping long enough to send him a text back.

  “I’m on my way.”

  I woke up with a jolt, slightly confused about where I was.

  It only took a second to realize – Troy’s thick bicep draped over me was a clear giveaway – but even once I knew, I still needed a few more moments for my heart to stop racing.

  Moving slowly, I extricated myself from his grasp and slipped from under the sheets, shivering as my feet landed on the cold floor. Instead of going into my overnight bag for clothes, I retrieved the tee shirt he’d tossed on his dresser last night, pulling it onto my nude body with a sigh. It still smelled like him, and that was a comfort I needed.

  Peeking over at him, I waited until his soft snores had resumed before I pulled open one of his dresser drawers. Not to be nosy – well… that too, kinda – but because I was searching for a pair of his boxer briefs to use as shorts, to ease my feeling of nakedness, even with the tee shirt on.

  I found them, and slid a pair on, then tiptoed out of the room. Funny enough, my sneaky exit reminded me of that very first night he brought me here, when I’d dipped while he was still sleeping off our little romp. I’d only been here a couple of times since then, and this was actually going to be my first time doing a bit of exploring.

  Anything to keep my mind occupied.

  I started with his laundry area, smelling the laundry detergent and the dryer sheets, marveling that a man could be so neat. I’d seen the bathroom before – knew what colognes he used, what body wash, knew he kept a bottle of his custom shampoo in the shower. The fridge was stocked with fresh foods, a pantry full of interesting seasonings and oils. I’d watched him move around the kitchen with confidence to prepare breakfast, and planned to find out what else he could cook.

  There was a big TV, a couple of gaming systems, a stereo and more speakers than anyone needed. Typical stuff for a guy. What caught my attention though, that I hadn’t noticed before, was the bookshelf. And from the looks of many of them… these pages had gone miles.

  It only took a moment to figure out that they were grouped by different topics, although there was an obvious overarching theme. There were books about love, relationship, books about marriage, books about parenting and adoption, about depression, and faith, and standing in your destiny, and investing money, and budgeting. It was clear to me that this… was where he came to learn, and grow, and develop the parts of himself he felt were lacking.

  “Borrow whatever you’d like, as long as you bring it back.”

  The sound of Troy’s voice nearly made me jump out of my skin, and he laughed as I turned to find him draped against the divider that led to his bedroom.

  “Sorry,” I told him, shaking my head as he started moving toward the kitchen, looking good as hell in nothing except a pair of boxers just like the ones I’d “borrowed”. “Did I wake you?”

  “Just now? Nah,” he answered, pulling open the refrigerator. “I’ve already brushed my teeth and stuff in the time you’ve been being nosy at my bookcase.”

  I rolled my eyes, turning back to the shelf as he began taking stuff out, presumably preparing to fix breakfast. “I'm not nosy, I’m just… observing. I’m a little surprised, not gonna lie.”

  “What, you didn’t think I knew how to read?”

  I laughed. “It’s just an automatic assumption that people don’t. Which may be bad, but it’s statistically true. Most people don’t read for pleasure. And a man reading? Hell, you’re a flat-out anomaly.”

  “I guess I’ll be that then,” he chuckled. “And take it as a compliment.”

  “You should, because that’s how I meant it.” I stopped my perusal as my eyes landed back on a particular section, and asked what had been burning in my mind since I saw it. “Why so many books on love, and relationships?”

  It took a moment for him to answer, but I didn’t dare turn around, lest I find him staring at me. I just waited, and after a bit where the only sound was him moving about the kitchen, he finally spoke.

  “To put it simply… because I want to be in a relationship, where I love the other person that’s in it with me. My real world examples aren’t exactly plentiful, so… reading is fundamental.”

  I nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “What about you?”

  Huh?!

  I froze where I stood, not knowing what the hell to say. Troy must have realized it, because after a second, he added to his question.

  “That’s not pressure, by the way. Just… honestly asking. Wondering if we’re on the same page about the possibilities for what’s happening between us, or… if we should cool it while we’re ahead.” He stopped talking, and laughed. “Shit… that sounds a lot like pressure, doesn’t it?”

  I didn’t answer.

  I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to say. So instead of doing what would ease his mind, and assure him that I wasn’t about to bolt out of the door, I just… didn’t say anything.

  Nothing felt suitable.

  My mind went back to last night, and how I’d felt in those moments of rage. Standing here in Troy’s apartment, after listening to his varying feelings about meeting Marshall and pot
entially gaining an entire family, and then having him make love to me, and waking up in his arms… it made those feelings in my studio seem so silly.

  I couldn’t verbalize my feelings for Troy, no, but I certainly recognized that they ran deep, already. And that didn’t scare me, it… fortified me. Maybe love and implicit trust for people who didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned it, was a scam. The idea that “family” gave toxic people unlimited access to you, that it was selfish not to engage, that you had no right to protect yourself from their energy… that stuff was the lie.

  Not this.

  Not Anika, Darcy, and Will.

  Definitely not them.

  Definitely not Troy.

  Relationships like that… those were the ones that gave me a reason to believe.

  “The bet,” I said, finally, somewhat changing the subject. “Where you had to cut your locs… you never told me what that was about. Was it about me?”

  “Somewhat.”

  I smirked. “Somewhat? What does that mean?” I asked, picking up a book about love languages, just for the sake of having something in my hands.

  “Well, I’d told my boys that the next woman I slept with was going to be my… future. Somebody I could fall in love with, build a family. Be with forever.”

  “And then I seduced you with my dope ass haircut. Damn.”

  Still in the kitchen, he chuckled. “Is that how you remember it?”

  “Maybe.”

  I put the book back on the shelf, and pulled my lip between my teeth.

  “You want to know what I’ve been thinking lately though?” he asked, as I ran my fingers along the spine of another title.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t think I lost that bet at all.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Just enough for a good long blink, to ground myself in the reality of what had just left his mouth – a reality that I… wasn’t equipped to handle. Not right then.

  I expected to find him staring at me when I turned around, waiting for a reply. Instead, he was busy plating food – making himself busy plating food, which was clear when he didn’t even look up when I approached.

  I hooked an arm around his waist, inserting myself between him and the countertop, so that we were face to face. His eyes were intense – expecting, waiting – but I still said nothing. Instead, I held his face in my hands, pulling him into me for a kiss.

  When I drew back, he was still intense.

  Still expecting.

  Still waiting.

  “I’m about to distract you with sex now, if that’s okay?” I said, earning myself a little less intensity, and a smile.

  “What if I say no?”

  “What if I say yes?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Yes to what?”

  “Anything,” I blurted, being a lot more honest than I probably should as I tried in vain to blink back the tears welling in my eyes. “Whatever you’re asking me. You can have it.”

  His arms moved around my waist, fingers sinking into my sides as he pulled me closer. I closed my eyes as his lips brushed my forehead, the tip of my nose, and then finally my lips as he tipped his head, but didn’t kiss me. “Don’t worry. And don’t cry,” he added, reaching up to brush a stray tear from my cheek. “I’m not asking for anything more than you’re already giving, mama. Just you. For as long as you feel like I deserve that. But I mean… I do plan to be a pretty deserving motherfucker, so that might be a long ass time.”

  A laugh that was exactly what I needed burst from my lips before I pulled him into another kiss. I spent the first few moments of it still laughing against his mouth, but then he took over, exploring me with his tongue.

  Briefly, I wondered about breakfast, but then I felt his hardness pressing into my stomach, and I didn’t care. All I cared about was pulling him from his boxers right there in the kitchen, dropping to my knees, and covering him with my mouth.

  “Shit,” he groaned, his face pulled into a scowl that would’ve seemed angry in any other context, but I happened to know he was very pleased with what was happening to his dick right now. “You haven’t even tasted the omelet yet,” he said, making me almost choke from laughing at his commentary.

  But then we got very, very serious about it.

  His hand went into my hair, maintaining a loose grip as my head bobbed back and forth. I kept my eyes trained upward, gauging his reaction to a stronger suck here, a little more tongue there, faster, slower… everything. His head dropped back and I swallowed him deeper, making him let out a low growl as I took him further down my throat.

  I gave his balls a little twist with one hand, and he reflexively surged forward, making me gag. But I didn’t mind – I welcomed the extra saliva, knowing it would create just the abundance of moisture I needed to make this perfect for him.

  “Goddamn,” he grunted, smacking the counter with one hand before he grabbed the edge, while the other hand tightened in my curls.

  Mission accomplished.

  I had him lost, and I knew it, from the way he was moaning and groaning and cursing under his breath as his hips started a subtle rock forward to meet my mouth.

  “Jules,” he growled, and I understood that this was my warning, but there was no way I was stopping now. I grabbed onto his thighs, abandoning the use of my hands as I did my best to make him completely disappear down my throat. He held my head in place as his hips surged forward one last time and he erupted, forcing me to breathe through my nose as his body tensed, and then relaxed as he released.

  He collapsed onto the barstool behind him, breathing like he’d just finished a set of jumping jacks as I lifted myself from the floor. I grinned as I grabbed a paper towel from the roll on the counter to wipe my face. He was still… indisposed… eyes closed, elbows back on the counter, when I bent to throw the paper towel away, but by the time I was back upright, so was he, and I let out a loud yelp as he easily lifted me onto the counter.

  “Where did that come from?” he asked, reaching underneath my – his – tee shirt to check me for panties. He frowned, then grinned when he realized I’d been wearing a pair of his boxers.

  I shrugged, raising myself up so that he could pull them off me. “I don’t know. Just felt like a good time. And I mean… I’ve wanted to do that since the first night, but I figured it was a bad idea since I didn’t even know your name.”

  “And what made you change your mind?”

  I smirked. “Duh. I know your name now.”

  Him plunging into me and burying himself to the root wiped the smile off my face, replacing it with an open mouth I used to whimper. He was so deep I felt like I might burst, but it felt so good I was willing to chance it.

  Locking my legs around his waist, I lifted my arms so he could pull the shirt off. Once it was gone, his hands immediately went to my breasts – cupping, squeezing, teasing my nipples between his forefinger and thumbs.

  And then he moved.

  In deep, slow, deep strokes that felt like they were reaching straight into my soul as he brought his mouth to mine. “Troy,” I moaned against his lips. “Are you trying to have me hiding under your station at the shop?”

  He chuckled, pressing his forehead against mine. “Oh word? It’s good to you like that?”

  “Mmmhmm,” I whimpered.

  “What about this then?” he asked, damn near making me black out as he slid his arm under one of my legs to prop it up, then hooked it over his shoulder. I clutched at his bicep, trying my damnedest to hold it together as he plunged into me, hitting buttons I couldn’t recall ever being pressed. But then he dipped his head, putting his face into my neck at just the right spot to sink his teeth in and suck.

  I couldn’t do anything except… melt.

  And scream.

  Because it felt just that damn good, and I didn’t want it to stop. Not even when the coil of pleasure building deep in my core burst, making me flood, in wave, after wave, after wave, until I felt like there was no way I could give anym
ore.

  His fingers on my clit made me realize I could.

  Warmth soaked my body as my eyes rolled back, and he dipped into me over, and over, and faster, and deeper, until my thighs were shaking beyond my control. Somewhere deep down, something… shifted. A deep, unfamiliar sensation swept through me, making emotion swell in my chest as Troy stroked me, and this time when I came, it rocked me from my fingertips to my toes.

  And the orgasm brought tears with it.

  Not just like my eyes were watering, but deep, overwhelmed sobs of pure bliss that made my shoulders shake as Troy kept going, and going, and then finally pulled out with a guttural cry that rumbled in my chest.

  I felt the hot burst of his eruption on my stomach and thighs, and found enough energy from somewhere to giggle through my tears.

  “You pulled out this time,” I teased, barely keeping my eyes open to see the relieved grin he gave me in response.

  “Not gonna lie… barely,” he chuckled, bringing his mouth to mine. “You feel a little too damn good to make this a habit. Gotta start keeping protection in every room.”

  “Might not be a bad idea,” I laughed. “But hey… I have a question…”

  “What’s up baby?”

  I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze, making sure he was focused before I spoke.

  “So… what about this breakfast?”

  “Are you crazy?! What the hell do you mean, cancel the launch party?!”

  Glancing over my shoulder to see if Troy was coming out yet, I pressed the button to lower the volume a notch on my phone, since Anika had decided to start screaming the moment I told her there was no longer going to be a launch party. I appreciated her – hell, I was still paying her – but this was something that really wasn’t her decision.

  “I mean exactly what I said, cousin,” I told her, attempting a soothing tone to get her to calm down. “Do I need to say it again?”

  Anika sucked her teeth. “No, I don’t need you to repeat yourself – I need you to give me a better damn answer! We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you decide a few days before that it just isn’t going to happen? I need to know why.”