Sunlight beamedinto the fifteen foot windows. Its heat warmed my skin to the touch. The smell of black coffee stretched my nostrils. Nothing was familiar about the space I occupied.
Mentally.
Physically.
Or emotionally.
Still, content parted my lids, welcoming me into a new world of possibilities. I uncurled my spine, straightening my limbs in the process.
“Oooouch,” I yawned.
Everything hurt.
“Good morning,my baby.”
Ishmael’s voice lured me to unsteady waters. His loafers collided with the wood flooring. His steps drew closer, increasing the rate of my heartbeat.
Black loafers.
Black slacks.
Black button down.
Black blazer.
Black tie.
He was gutting. And well-groomed. And handsome. And alert. And curious. And quiet. His beauty was staggering. His silence was unearthing.
“Good morning.”
Ishmael was soundless. His observation required nearly every breath he took. There was no room for words.
“Coffee?” I asked, turning my nose upward.
He shook his head.
“Not for drinking.”
I’d succeeded in extracting words from him.
“Motivation.”
“Motivation?” Chuckling, I pulled the cover closer to my chin.
I wasn’t ready for the day. I wasn’t sure when I would be.
Ishmael shrugged.
“To not return to bed and spend the day wrapped in your walls.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“You have work to do, Royce. So do I.”
“Yes. I knoooooow,” I groaned, placing a hand on my forehead. “I need to make some calls before nine.”
“It’s almost eight. You have an hour.”
