“Honestly, music takes a lot out of me,” she confessed. “Recording, posting and engaging, promoting and performing. It’s a lot. I’m an introvert, and I isolate a lot to recharge, so doing this makes it hard for me to have the energy to do anything else.”
“Can I ask why you’re doing music instead of having your own store?” I wondered, hoping the question wouldn’t be too intrusive. So far, the food, company, and conversation had all been good, and I didn’t want that to end.
“It’s gonna sound silly,” she warned me before taking a sip of her iced tea.
“Safe space,” I reminded.
She grabbed my hand, and I noticed she did that when she was nervous. It made me think that was her way of being grounded and trying to stay present. I wondered who else she clung to like that and if they knew what an honor it was.
“For Senior. It’s . . . my football for him. What he’s proud of. What we connect over. What makes him show interest in me. My life. Our relationship has always been provision and protection, but my music makes it kind of personal. We still don’t have the emotional, close bond I wish we had, but it’s something. Better than it was when I was a kid.”
That shit broke a piece of my heart off. To know that she was doing music because of her father fucked with me. It made me want to go to him and demand he do better, but I knew that would be a waste of my breath. Some men were too toxic in their masculinity to be soft and emotional toward women. That shit was never a flex to me or something to be proud of. I felt most like a man when I was tender and vulnerable with a woman, which was why I avoided that shit. I didn’t want a woman evoking emotion and connection with me that I was trying not to have.
“That’s probably why I’ve picked horrible men to be with,” she continued, releasing my hand. “My father never reallyshowed me how I should be treated, and that’s not to blame him for my choices. I take responsibility for them now and know it’s up to me to choose better regardless of his example. After this situation, I’m done with relationships. Men can’t be soft and gentle and kind toward me. They don’t deserve the way I love. My loyalty. My affection. I’m over that shit now.”
“I’m gonna tell you something my uncle told me. Life is short, but it’s too long to be miserable. You have a beautiful voice and great career, but if music isn’t what you want to do, don’t do it. You can’t live for your father, Eli. Not happily. This is your one life. Live it for you. And as far as relationships are concerned, take a break now ’cause I’m ya man, and I’on play that sharing and cheating shit, but when this is over, don’t let niggas who didn’t value and appreciate you keep you from being loved properly. Just choose better and never settle for less than you deserve. There are men out there disciplined enough to be faithful, and there are men secure enough in their masculinity to give you the safe, soft love you desire and deserve. Don’t let nobody rob you of what you want, Smiley. No one.”
“That was a lot, and I’ll need to unpack it all with gratitude when I get home, but you calling yourself my man stood out the most.”
I hadn’t even noticed I’d said that shit.
“I did?” I confirmed, though I knew she had no reason to lie.
With a sniggle, Eli nodded. “Yes. You did.”
“Hmm. Guess it came out naturally.”
“Which is good. Thank you, Falcon. I needed to hear everything you just said.”
She leaned forward, cupped my right cheek, and kissed the left. Her lips on any part of me was something I wanted to earn every day for the rest of my life.
Chapter
Nine
Eli
Mid-March
Though I usually got up whenthe sun did, I was sleeping quite peacefully when I heard light taps against my bedroom door. A month had passed since I caught Justin and Natasha in bed together, and I was still living with Isaac. There was no rush for me to find my own place, because his schedule was so busy. By July, he’d be traveling and never home. And since I did one show a quarter, I’d be traveling soon as well. I wanted to cancel my next two shows after what happened, but Andrew said that would make me look like I was guilty or ashamed of my actions. And even though I did feel bad about beating my ex best friend’s ass, he made it clear to me it would work more in my favor if I didn’t hide from it, instead putting the situation into my music and performances.
For a few seconds, I thought I was hearing things. With it being the off season, I refused to believe Isaac was up this early. I rolled over and grabbed my phone to check the time, butit clearly was before six because the sun hadn’t come up yet. Knocking sounded off again, and I groaned.
“Come in,” I directed, lifting my sheet and duvet up since I slept naked.
At the sight of Falcon, I wanted to hide under the bed. I had no idea what my face or hair looked like. Did I have eye boogers or crust around my mouth?Jesus.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, though I’d meant to think that.
Falcon laughed as he stepped further into the room but still stayed about five feet away from the bed.
“Get dressed. Our first date is this morning.” His head tilted as he eyed my face slowly. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning,” I grumbled, wiping my eyes. “What time is the date?”
“You’re not a morning person, are you?” Falcon asked with a teasing smile.
He was standing there looking too good and too chipper this early in the damn morning.
