“I think it’s time for another drink,” I said, drinking the last of what was in my glass.
He got the bartender’s attention, and we ordered another round of the same drinks. Our conversation continued while we waited.
“We’ve discussed our exes, our families, our childhoods, our education, and our jobs. I want to discuss us,” Sylas said.
“At the moment, there is no us to discuss.”
“I’d like to change that. I don’t want this to end when we leave Denver. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed being in the company of a woman this long, and sex wasn’t involved. I want to spend some real time with you.”
“Okay.”
He asked what I liked to do in my free time, and I was almost embarrassed to tell him. If I wasn’t hanging with my family or Mena, I usually had my face in a book. Sometimes I binge-watched popular shows people talked about on social media, but reading Black romance and erotica was my happy place.
“I’m a homebody. Mena is my only friend. If I’m not with her or my family, I’m at home reading.”
“What do you like to read?”
Again, I was almost embarrassed to tell him I lived out my fantasies through the female characters crafted by Black independent authors.
“Mostly Black romance.”
He chuckled. “You and my sister would get along well. She’s always talking about book baes and what they did for their women. Maison has to remind her all the time that those niggas ain’t real.”
“They may not be real, but it would do most men some good to take notes from them, that’s all I’m saying.”
“All right, Ms. Homebody Bookworm. If I look up your Flikstagram, I won’t see any pics or videos of you with your ass in the camera, twerking and shit.”
I gasped. “First of all, ain’t nothing wrong with a little twerking every now and then, but no, you won’t find any pics or videos. If you looked through me or Mena’s camera roll, that’s a different story.”
“Oh, so you’re a closet ratchet girl?”
“Only people I know well are privileged enough to see certain sides of me. I typically keep my guard up around strangers.”
“Really? Has your guard been up tonight?”
Initially, I was a little guarded, but it didn’t take long for Sylas to break through the small barrier I'd put up. With his genuine interest, the cute banter between us, and the flirtatious one-liners he kept dropping, there was no way I could stay guarded.
“It feels like I’ve known you much longer than a few hours, so I haven’t been as guarded as I typically would with someone I just met.”
“I wonder why that is.”
Yeah, me too,I thought, but something else came out of my mouth.
“What do you do in your free time?”
“I’m not saying this to make it seem like we have so much in common, but I’m kind of a homebody.”
I rolled my eyes and sipped my drink in response, and he continued.
“No, seriously, I am, but I haven’t always been. Up until about three years ago, my life was work, rest, kick it, and repeat.”
“What changed?”
“I got bored with it all, I guess. It ain’t like it was ten years ago. Now, I work, rest, hang with my family, and repeat. I might try a new restaurant, hit up one of my trusted favorites, or check out a lounge every so often, but nothing like I used to.”
“So, if I look up your Flikstagram, I’ll see you in a section, with a bunch of thirsty bitches, popping bottles?”
He got a good laugh out of that before responding.
