Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
After making sure she was comfortable and secure, he closed her door and claimed the driver’s seat, his window cracked, and the tune of, ‘Million Dollar Baby,’ by Tommy Richman blasting through a set of powerful speakers that vibrated with each pulse of the base.
Before he pulled away from her apartment building, he turned towards her with his sexy, hooded gray eyes, licked his lips, then leaned closer to her.
“I’ve got excellent taste.” He smiled wide, showing his bright teeth. “You look good.”
“Thank you. So do you. I like that dark blue jacket. It’s well made. I had—”
Soft lips pressed firmly against hers, cutting off her words and thoughts with the pressure of passion. Then, he leaned back in his seat and drove towards the main road. His sexy cologne wafted in the air, leaving her breathless.
“Uh, I was going to say…” She smacked her lips a couple of times, smiling from ear to ear. “I wanted to thank you for responding to my question about your dating past with Black women. I know it may have seemed strange to you for me to ask, but—”
“You didn’t want to feel like a guinea pig, right?” He swiped his hand along his short black beard and scratched a spot near his jawline.
“I mean, no, I guess not, but because I have already known you for a long time, if I was the first,” she pointed to herself, “it didn’t mean I was going to throw in the towel. I’d be lying though if I didn’t admit that I’m more comfortable not being the first one.”
“I got it. Understood.” He grabbed a pack of gum and shoved a piece in his mouth. “You want one?”
“No, I’m good. Wait. Are you trying to say my breath stinks?”
He burst out laughing.
“No! I would just be honest and tell you straight out. I love to kiss, so if that was somethin’ I noticed I would have addressed it right then.” He’s probably right about that. He never really had much of a filter. “It just would’ve been rude to not offer you a piece since I took one out for myself.”
“Okay. Just makin’ sure.” She giggled. “Well, don’t you wonder if you’re the only White—well, White looking I should say now that I know that your mother was Lebanese—man that I’ve ever dated?”
“Nope.”
She burst out laughing at how quickly he answered, then shrugged.
“Well, I guess that settles that. So, where are we going? When I tried to get it out of you last night, you attempted to act all secretive about it.” A part of her loved every moment of the mystery. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been on a real date.
“I’ve got this all planned out. I want you to just go with the flow, though,” he stated casually as he approached a red light. “Here.” He handed her a chilled bottle of water. She side-eyed him, then took the bottle and broke the seal. As she gulped down the water, he merged onto Interstate-610. Marcellus The Singer and Cecily Wilborn’s, ‘You Baby,’ began to play.
“Oh, this is my song! I nevah liked country music that much ’til Marcellus got on the scene. Whew! You like this too, huh?” She smiled excitedly as she put her bottle in the cup holder, then figured out where the volume control was on the LED lit control center flatscreen panel.
“Yeah! You’re late, Nadia. I love country music. Country rap. Country blues. All of it. He’s one of my favorites. Saw him in concert last year.”
“I bet he puts on a hell of a performance. I’d love to see him in concert one day.”
“That can be arranged.” His eyes on the road, he took her hand and squeezed it. She felt all warm and buttery inside.
She sat back enjoying the pretty atmosphere. The sun was shining bright, and the sky was streaked with shades of deep blue and pastel pink, reminding of her cotton candy. She swallowed, recalling the taste of that sweetness. Haven’t had any in years.
As he drove past other cars and trees turned into blurs, she began to daydream. The sugary scent of a summer day… Back then, the air was infused with the smell of grilled burgers, hotdogs, and sauteed onions. I remember eating my aunt’s homemade strawberry pound cake. Ohhhh, it was sooo good! The smell of kiddie sweat was all over my body, and my friends’, too. We smelled like earthy soil and peanut butter, and chlorine from Nana’s above-ground pool that she used to have in her backyard… Our hair had been dyed colors from the chemicals—dusty redheads and rust colored curls with dark mahogany tans by the time the summer came to an end.
A part of her longed to be a child again, running through sprinklers with her little brother and cousins. Getting her hair braided, adorned with tiny colorful plastic beads while sucking on an orange frozen popsicle. Mama would let loose and drink cheap wine and hula-hoop with them. Her heart flipped. She glanced over at Lennox who seemed oblivious that she was dancing down memory lane. With him present, all of those reminiscences rushed back to her. Innocence. Sweetness. Heartbreak. Pure, golden joy.