And don’t act like you don’t know what that mean.
Me:
???
Teagan:
Dick at the End.
I shook my head and tucked the phone away, glancing back up at the man standing in front of me.
“Alright.” I took a deep breath. “I’m kinda craving something greasy. Like, triple cheeseburger greasy.”
“Say less.” He smiled as he punched something in on his phone before opening the door. I wheeled toward the exit, heart skipping a beat.
I staredat Noa from across the table as she looked around the candlelit restaurant like a deer caught in headlights. I knew she was about to say something about the upscale restaurant I had taken her to, but I couldn’t resist. Noa deserved everything good, if not from all she’d been through, then from how hard she’d worked on the pieces she made for the art show. Tonight was special. She was special, and I would spend any amount to make sure she knew it.
“What?” I asked. “Everything cool?”
“You know,” she said, raising her voice over the smooth jazz that played in the background, “we could’ve just hit a burger joint. I didn’t need all this.”
“What I look like takin’ you to a burger joint in that dress? Nah, this is a special occasion. You can get a burger here.” I smirked and sat back in my seat, arms relaxed, watching her like she was the only one in the room, the same way I had all night.
“How’d you even get reservations here? This place is always booked.” She opened the menu and started looking through it. I watched as she flipped to the burger section, and a smile crossed my face.
“I like to plan ahead.” I left out the part where I made the call on the way over here when I stopped at the gas station. I’d learned back when I was Quae Lo that money and the right swagger could get you in practically anywhere. I wasn’t balling, but I’d been saving. Ron was barely taking fifty dollars a check to cover the unaccounted-for expenses on Noa’s repairs. My car was paid for, and besides the money I threw to Jess for staying there, I didn’t have too many more expenses. I had more than enough to splurge on Noa tonight, and any other night she’d let me.
“Let me find out you’ve been plotting on me, Mr. JaQuade.” She smiled.
“I might have plotted a little…”
“Is that right?” She tilted her head, smiling at me, a flicker of something in her eyes I couldn’t place. “You’re treading a thin line. Making plans and reservations is giving this is a date, Quade.”
“Yeah.”
She wasn’t expecting me to say that. Her face showed a ton of emotions all at once before a confused, “Huh?” fell from her lips.
“This is a date, Noa. As long as you want it to be.” There it was… the elephant in the room that we’d both been tiptoeing around. Somewhere between leaving the house and the art gallery, I’d decided I liked Noa. Shit, I’d been gone off her fine ass since day one, and the more I watched her tonight, the lessI cared about timing or caution. I wasn’t a bum ass nigga. I was putting my life back together, standing ten toes down about mine. It had never scared me to approach any woman before, so there was no point in starting now.
“You want to date a woman confined to a wheelchair?” She laughed, but I didn’t see anything funny.
“Your chair doesn’t bother me, Noa. You the baddest thing in this room. Shit, any room you step in.”
Her mouth opened and closed like she didn’t know what to say as the server arrived with water and dinner rolls before she could respond, but her eyes never left mine. That hesitation about her illness, I’d buried it weeks ago. If that may have been bogus for wanting her, then so be it.
“Is it a problem that I want to date you, beautiful?” I asked, voice low.
“Not at all.” She shook her head slowly. “I just… come with a lot, Quade. My body hurts most days. I spend most of my time in bed or at a doctor’s appointment. I get tired easily, and don’t even get me started on sex. Some nights, my body just says no, even when every other part of me is saying yes. Trying to date someone who can’t always keep up can be tiresome. I just want you to have a full picture of what it’s like dating the sick girl.”
“You do come with a lot…” I leaned in a little, my eyes burning a hole into her soul. I’d heard her words, her caution label, and her defense, and the fact that she felt she needed to give me a warning label before dating her didn’t sit right with me. It made me wonder how many times she’d been told she came with too much. I didn’t have all the details about her life, but I knew that nothing she had said scared me. If anything, it made me want to carry it all so she could get some relief.
“I didn’t show up empty-handed either.” I finally spoke. If she was going to list her shit, I was going to list mine. “I’m a former rapper turned contractor who is fresh off a seven-yearbid. I signed a million-dollar contract and got locked up before I could even cash the check. I’m thirty-five years old, and I don’t have my own place. I’m staying with my sister and her family in the house I bought her with my tour money. Some days, I feel like a failure, and some days, I’m proud of my journey. I don’t know what’s next for me. My dream was to be a rapper, and I did that. Now I’m just trying to figure shit out.” I blew out a deep breath as I bit into a buttery roll. It actually felt good to lay all my shit out in the open. “Everybody come with something, beautiful. There are no perfect people.”
Noa didn’t say anything. She just stared at me with the type of stare you give when you’re trying to keep from unraveling.
“You always been so good at that?” she asked.
“Good at what?”
