Jamila laughed and I felt it in every inch of my body.
She didn’t laugh often. She’d smile. She’d make an amused noise. She’d point out that something was funny. But she didn’t laugh from her belly often. The only other two times I’d made her laugh, I felt the same sense of accomplishment.
I could live off that shit.
We went back to watching the movie and not even ten minutes later, the husband said something that made him look guilty.
“See!” she exclaimed, pointing to the screen. “His ass did it. It’s always the husband.”
“It’s too obvious to be the husband. I still think it’s the best friend. Where has she been the last couple days?”
“It’s not her. She can’t be two places at once. When that dead body showed up, she was visiting her mother.”
“She said she was visiting her mother.”
“But we never saw her mother, did we? For all we know, she could’ve been in town killing the assistant while she was telling her best friend she was visiting her mom.”
“But the husband was having an affair with the assistant. It would make more sense that he killed her and is trying to terrorize his wife before he kills her.”
I furrowed my brows. “Are we watching the same movie? When did he say he was having an affair with the assistant?”
“He didn’t have to say it. You can tell.” She pointed at the screen. “Look at the way he’s all broken up about her death.”
I grabbed the remote and hit pause. “What?” I pointed to the freeze frame of the man with tears in his eyes because his assistant was killed in front of his home. “How is this man crying a sign of guilt?”
“Oh, come on! Bradley, look at him! Everything about him screams ‘I’m for the streets’ and you know it.” She pursed her lips. Pulling her feet onto the couch, she tucked them underneath her. “You have that same look about you.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
She lifted her hands in surrender. “It’s true. And it had to be said.”
“So, you’re comparing me to this guy? The same man you think is the killer? Really?” My voice raised a couple of octaves as I leaned away from her dramatically.
She smiled before letting out an amused sigh. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t think you’re a killer. But I do think you’re for the streets just like him.”
I let out a shocked laugh. “Wowwwwww.”
“It’s the energy he has around other women. You know that party scene, before the assistant died?” She gestured wildly. “That’s how you were at the wedding. That’s how you were at the lounge before we ran into each other. It’s community energy.”
“No way. Not at all. That’s bullshit. I don’t have community energy.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You have community dick.”
“No, I don’t!” I snickered as I tried to defend myself. I pulled out my phone and showed her my lab results and my clean bill of health. “I don’t fuck any and everybody.”
She eyed it carefully, scrolling through the list of tests. “Well, that’s good to know. I got tested when the doctor said I was pregnant. I figured if your sperm were able to sneak in, I had to make sure nothing else did.”
“I feel you,” I chuckled. “But no, I make sure I’m good. And I don’t fuck any and everybody. Just because someone sees me with a new woman doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with her.”
She folded her arms under her chest, and I resisted the urge to look. “Then why did Roman and Bianca tell me to be on the lookout for you?”
“Because you’re my type and commitment wasn’t necessarily my thing.”
“And it is now?”
“I’m not opposed to commitment…” I searched for the right way to phrase my thoughts. “It just hasn’t happened with the right woman yet.”
“Well, even if they didn’t warn me, I can spot someone who is for the streets a mile away.”
“Why do you keep saying I’m for the streets?”
“Because it’s the truth.” She glanced at my hair. “And your whole look and vibe scream for the streets.”
“How?”
“For him,” she started, pointing to the screen again. “It’s the beard, the deep waves, and the general way he flirts with everyone.” She pointed at me. “For you, it’s the swoopy, modern Zack Morris hair. I’m not saying you can’t trust someone with that hair style. I’m just saying that’s a dishonest cut if I’ve ever seen one.”
My head fell back, and I laughed from the bottom of my gut. I reached over and grabbed her feet, pretending like I was going to tickle them. “Say it again,” I threatened.
Twisting and turning, she struggled to get out of my grip as she laughed and screamed her surrender. “No, don’t do it! Please, stop!” When I let her go, she wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “Don’t tickle me.”
I grinned. “I won’t. But you didn’t have to play me like that.”
“What? You do have the”—she waved her hands around the crown of her head— “hair. I mean, come on… name another white man with your hair that isn’t for the streets?”
I couldn’t think of one, so I just started laughing. “If you looked at me and thought I was for the streets, why did you invite me to your room after the wedding? Because you had been telling me all weekend that I wasn’t your type.”
“You’re not.” Jamila looked at me, a smile played on her lips. “But I can appreciate a good-looking man when I see one. And I wanted to see what the hype was about.”
“And?”
She grabbed the remote. “I came back for seconds, didn’t I?”
I was smiling hard as hell. “So basically, what you’re saying is that you were curious, you had a taste, and you wanted another.”
“I was curious, yes. And you put in work, so yes, I enjoyed myself. But it was always supposed to be a one-time thing,” she explained. “And then I saw you at the lounge and told myself if you approached me, I was going to let myself have a little fun since it had been a while.”
“So, you saw me before I approached you?” I wondered.
“I did. And I watched the way you moved through the crowd—who tried to get your attention and who you gave your attention to.” She smirked. “You can tell a lot about a person when you watch them, and they don’t know you’re watching.”
“And what was your conclusion?”
Holding my gaze, she said, “I let you take me home and we fucked all night. That was my conclusion.”
The blood rushed from my brain to my dick as her words hit me. “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair. “I never am at a loss for words until I’m around you.”
I wasn’t sure how she did it, but she never failed to completely take me by surprise and leave me speechless.
“It’s a gift and a curse,” she told me, her eyes sparkling.
As we held eye contact, something happened.
There was a shift in the room. My heart started beating faster. My dick was already hard, but there was something else. Her lips parted and her breathing slowed so I knew she felt it, too.
That was a fucking moment.
If she weren’t on the other side of the couch, I would have kissed her. It was the same energy between us after Roman and B’s reception… and when we were at the lounge.
“Something happens when we’re together,” I pointed out slowly, allowing each breath that I took to try to calm me down.
“Just because we feel something doesn’t mean we have to act on it.”
I licked my lips. The way she was staring into my eyes was adding fuel to a fire that was burning just for her. “So, you feel it, too.”
“I know what you were trying to do with those sweatpants showing off your dick like that and having all your muscles on display by not putting on a shirt. You are sexy as hell. I admit it. And a little part of me enjoyed the view. I’m not going to lie. But this”—she gestured between the two of us— “isn’t going to ha
ppen.”
“There’s something between us. You have to admit that.”
“I don’t have to admit anything,” she said breathily. Shaking her head slowly, her eyes dropped to my lips. “So, don’t get any ideas. You’re staying the night. You’ll go home tomorrow. And we’ll move on with our lives.”
“Jamila, I—”
She broke eye contact and pressed play on the remote. “We have to finish the movie,” she interrupted.
Yeah, she feels it.
I wasn’t sure what the next move would be, but as I watched her squirm on her end of the couch, I knew she felt it too.
“I can feel your eyes on me,” she murmured, pointing at the television screen. “Don’t watch me, watch TV.”
I snickered.
The movie got to a major twist that neither of us saw coming.
“Oh shit,” I remarked, moving to the edge of the couch. “I bet you I’m right.”
“Oh, no way. The fact that the policeman used to go to high school with the husband screams that the husband did it.”
“So, let’s bet on it.”
She paused the movie. “Okay, what do you want to bet?”
I shifted on the couch, moving myself a little closer to her. “If it is the best friend, which it is, you have to cook for me before I leave. Whatever I want.”
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “You’re leaving in the morning.”
I smirked. “Well, let’s hope you have all the ingredients for what I need so you can make it in the morning.”
“You won’t win,” she assured me. “But when I win, I would like my feet massaged”—she pointed at me, as a warning— “massaged, not tickled.”
She had pretty feet, so that wouldn’t be a problem.
“I can agree to that,” I said nonchalantly.
We watched the movie, adding our commentary throughout and at the end, it was revealed that the best friend was the killer.
“I knew it,” I announced, pumping my arm in the air.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “What do you want me to cook? I’ll need to see if I have the ingredients.”
“You’re B’s dad’s sister’s daughter, right?”
“Yes. Bianca’s dad is my uncle.” She gave me a weird look. “Why?”
“Your mom made something at the wedding. It was some sort of braised chicken—”
“That takes like three hours!”
My smile grew. “It’s a good thing you told me you have no plans this weekend.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t have the ingredients.”
“It’s a good thing there’s a store five minutes away.”
“I don’t want to.”
“It’s a good thing you lost the bet.”
Her pursed lips turned upward at the corners and she looked away. “Fine. But after that, you’re out of here.”
“Whatever you want, princess.”
She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.
“What was that?” I asked, watching her.
“I said leave me alone,” she laughed. It wasn’t the deep laugh of before. It was shorter and lighter, but it still made me smile.
I stretched. “Can we watch another thriller? I want to correctly guess the killer again.”
She tilted her head. “Double or nothing?”
“Oh, no no no no no.” I frowned. “I want that braised chicken and some sides. I don’t even care what sides. I just want to watch a movie… with you.”
She stared at me long and hard. “Okay, I’ll pick. But I need to get some popcorn and go to the bathroom.”
“Do you need any help?”
Her brows furrowed. “Using the bathroom?”
“Getting to the bathroom.”
“I can get to the bathroom on my own but thanks,” she scoffed on her way out of the room.
“I’m choosing to ignore the sarcasm,” I called out behind her.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” she called back.
I laughed to myself as I waited for her to come back. When I heard her walking into the kitchen, I hopped off the couch and followed her.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked as she was pulling a popcorn maker out of the cabinet.
She grabbed the popcorn kernels and buttery oil. “Water, please.”
I got the bottles and sat at the bar, watching her. Because of the way the silk top and bottom fit her body, I couldn’t tell she was pregnant.
Three months pregnant. With my kid. Wow.
As she moved around, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her stomach. While usually I’m staring at her face or her ass, I couldn’t stop staring at the middle of her. And when that little slice of belly exposed itself when she reached up to put the extra kernels back, I swallowed hard.
“How are you?” The question tumbled out of my mouth before I had a chance to really think about it.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” I motioned to her stomach. “How are you?”
“I’m good.”
I just stared at her. “That’s all I get?”
“I mean, I felt sick to my stomach for a month, but thank God that went away. I’ve been more tired than usual, and I’ve been eating more. But that just started when I went to the doctor and officially found out I was pregnant.”
“What made you go to the doctor?”
She pulled out a big bowl. “I missed my period. But since I was stressed at work, I didn’t think much of it until I started getting sick.”
“Morning sickness?” I guessed.
“This was morning, afternoon, and evening sickness. I just felt nauseated all the time. But a couple weeks ago, that went away. I went to the doctor and…” She shrugged. “Now I’m just tired and hungry.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Bradley, what are you doing?” she sighed.
“I just want to know if you need anything. I want to make sure you’re okay. You’re out here alone and you haven’t told anyone. I just…” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I made the decision to have this child by myself. I waited until I was beyond the three-month period to tell anyone. I was planning to tell my parents this weekend, but I felt like I should tell you first. So, I did.”
“I’m glad you told me.” I didn’t know what else to say so I just stared at her belly. “Is this what you want?”
“I’m not asking you for anything. I’m not asking you to change up your life. I just thought it was right for you to know. I just thought I should tell you.” When I met her gaze, I noticed the emotions playing across her face before she took a deep breath. “I didn’t ask you to be here.”
“I just meant going at it alone… is that what you want?
She rolled her shoulders back. “It’s the choice I’ve made. I don’t have any other options. I understand that it’s a shock to you. It’s a shock to me, too. I never saw this for me, but here I am. So, I have no problem going at this alone.”
“I could help you,” I replied automatically. I wasn’t even sure why I said it, but the words were out there.
We stared at one another silently until the soft popping dragged her attention away. I watched her as she avoided eye contact with me. When she finished filling the bowl with popcorn, she picked it up and finally spoke again.
“Come on, if you’re coming,” she said as she walked out of the kitchen.
Gathering the bottles of water and napkins, I followed her into the living room. I sat down closer to her on the couch. Not too close, but I wasn’t completely on the other end. When she found a movie, she looked at me. “Have you seen this?”
“No, I haven’t,” I answered.
She hit play.
As the opening credits were rolling, I felt the awkwardness of my unanswered statement hanging over me.
Why would I offer some shit like that knowing how Jamila is? Now I’m looking like a dumbass. I glanced over at her as she shoved a handful of popcorn in
to her mouth. She said she didn’t want to tell me. She said she didn’t want me to be part of it. So why would I tell her I could help her and think she would say something different?
The second movie had a slower start than the first, but twenty-five minutes in, the action started.
“I think this is a figment of her imagination,” she commented as she gulped down her water. “That’s why all that stuff happened in the beginning.”
“One hundred percent. This whole thing is playing out in her head.”
She gasped and pointed. “You are just saying that because I said it!”
“Why would I guess what you guessed? I’m the one with the win from earlier.”
We went back and forth, laughing and joking with an easy rhythm. The second movie wasn’t as good as the first, but the predictability made it a comedy. We spent the whole time guessing the next scenes and what would happen to the characters. We were right every single time.
With a wide grin, she stared at me. “You’re funny.”
“So are you. But I knew that when you were giving me shit when we met.”
“You strolled into the rehearsal like you were on the prowl,” she remembered, amusement riddling her voice. “And the first thing you said to me was that I looked like a woman you kept seeing in your dreams.”
“I stand by that line.”
She let out a dry laugh as she changed the channel to the news. “That’s the problem. It was a line. A line you probably used on at least two other women there and countless women in Richmond.”
I cocked my head to the side. “It was a good line!”
“It’s really not. I can see bullshit coming from a mile away and you reeked of games and foolishness. So even if you had a good line, it wasn’t going to make a difference. But that line in particular was weak. You only get away with shit like that because you look the way you do. Just an FYI.” She lifted her hands. “It had to be said.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t use lines anymore.”
“When did you stop? Because I think I remember you trying out a line on me at the lounge.”
“Nah, I didn’t say anything to you that wasn’t real and from the heart. Not at the wedding, not at the lounge. Not then, not now.”
Heartless (Heartache) Page 6
