There was something about a man who still answered to his grandmother on Sundays that made me feel like he wasn’t a bad guy at all.
The waitress came over and smiled at him like she recognized him, and he was respectful with her — not flirty, not dismissive, just decent. He had a southern charm about him that was growing on me for real. I noticed that. The way a man treats people who can’t do anything for him tells you everything that you need to know about him.
We ate good. Shrimp and grits, chicken and waffles, fresh squeezed juice. He ate like a man with nothing to prove, and I liked that. The conversation moved easy between us. Nothing was forced and it felt good as hell. We talked about my shop, his childhood, music, what we both wanted out of life when all the noise died down. He was direct without being aggressive about it. He didn’t try to run game, didn’t oversell himself. He just talked to me straight, like he already decided I was worth being honest with and wasn’t going back on that.
At one point I mentioned my ex casually, nothing detailed, just enough for him to understand that I wasn’t coming into this on no rushing the process type shit. I was really still healing. He didn’t pry. He set his fork down, looked at me, and said, “Whatever that was you had with the next nigga, it don’t get to follow you in here. Not while you’re with me. I’m not him, I’m built different and I hope you understand that,”
I blinked at him.
He picked his fork back up and kept eating like he hadn’t just said something that shifted both our moods. I took a sip of my juice and looked out the window so I could get myself together. As much as I wanted to pretend Jakari ain’t hurt me, he did. Days like this was a reminder. As much as I wanted to forget him, it was damn near impossible.
After we finished, he paid the bill before I even reached for my bag, and when I told him I could cover mine, he looked at me like I had said something in a foreign language.
“Put your card away before we have a problem, Harmoni.”
The way he said my name was starting to be a problem.
He drove us to the park not far from downtown. It was warm but there was enough breeze to keep it from being heavy, and the trees were full and green. He got out first and came around to open my door, and when I stepped out, he put his hand out for me to hold. His hand was big and warm and rough in all the places that told a story, and he held mine just long enough to make sure I was steady before he let go.
We walked the trail with no real rush behind us. He stayed on the outside of the sidewalk the whole time, as a man should. When a group of people came through going the other direction, he put his arm out across me and stepped slightly forward until they passed, then dropped it and let me fall back in step beside him like nothing happened. He was caring and attentive. I liked that shit.
“You always like this?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“You know what,” I said.
He glanced over at me with that same smirk. “You asking me to stop?”
I didn’t answer him and he laughed, low and easy, and I felt it in my stomach.
We ended up on a bench near the water. He had his elbows resting on his knees, watching some kids chase ducks along the bank, and I sat beside him just taking all of it in.
Out here, he didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did at home, with his business and everything else. He was just Rowdy — present, unbothered, unhurried.
“What made you want to do all this?” I asked. “The rose, the spot your grandmama took you to, all of it. You didn’t have to put in this much. We getting to know each other, right?
He turned and looked at me for a long moment before he answered. “Because you seem like somebody who’s been getting the bare minimum from muthafuckas who wanted to makeyou think it was enough. I don’t move like that. When I want something, I’m gone go hard for it.”
I felt that land somewhere deep inside my damn chest and I looked out at the water so he wouldn’t see what it did to my face.
He didn’t try to hold my hand after that. Didn’t push for anything I hadn’t offered. He just sat in there with me like he was exactly where he wanted to be, and that unbothered patience he carried did more damage to my guard than anything else he could have tried.
By the time he pulled back up in front of my house, I had been fighting with myself the entire ride. He got out and walked me to my door without me having to ask, and when I turned around at the top of my porch steps, he was right there, close enough that I had to look up at him.
He reached out and tucked one of those loose pieces of hair back behind my ear. He had the nerve to be a romantic hood nigga.
“I had a real good time with you today. I’m enjoying seeing the real you.” he said.
“Me too,” I told him, and every wall I had been stacking since my last heartbreak leaned a little to the left when I said it.
He nodded once, kissed me on my forehead, then stepped back and walked to his car. He didn’t look back, but I stood on that porch and watched him pull off anyway. When I finally went inside and closed the door, I stood in my entryway with that rose still sitting in its glass on the counter and my hand pressed flat against my chest. This shit felt too good.
This man was going to be a problem. And the part of me didn’t give a damn. I wanted to see what he was all about at this point.
I spent the past few weeks getting to know Rowdy, and I could honestly say I was feeling everything about that man. He was consistent with the roses, good morning texts, and occasional brunch dates. He would also pop up at my shop with lunch for my girls and me. I had just gotten out of a messed up situation, so I wasn’t trying to fall for him too fast and I made that clear, but in my mind, he was already my man,real bad!
I was at work counting down the time until I closed so I could go home and get ready for my date. Tonight was our first official fancy date, and I was too excited about it. My work phone started ringing. When I answered, it was Jakari telling me that Keith had been shot. Keith was like a brother to me, so time immediately stopped when I heard that news. I had to gather myself in order to drive to the hospital. I asked Carmen to lock up for me, and I turned a ten minute drive into five. Once I parked, I rushed into the ER. I saw them rushing Keith to the back as Jakari stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his head.
