That statement earned a laugh from me. “I like the sound of that, you indulging my requests.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Too late, but all jokes aside. How long do you have to stay down here?”
“I don’t. Your sister asked that I come so she could introduce me to her family, and including you, I have been introduced to several other people.”
“Good, then let's go.” I reached for her hand and led her toward the exit. I locked eyes with Rem and he looked behind me, then nodded with a smirk. He already knew what I was on and he knew I damn sure wasn’t about to sit in this reception. It was just my luck Selah was who Jade had intended to play matchmaker with.
When we reached the elevator, I pressed the button then swung her body around mine.
“Let me guess, you got the best room in the place again.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“No, maybe, it’s true. I like how you aren’t flashy, but you spend money on comfort and space.” We stepped onto the brightly lit, mirrored ceiling elevator and the doors immediately closed behind us.
I pressed the PH button then stepped back, resting against the cushioned back wall. “Being in my own space and comfortable is what makes me happy. I like my comfort.”
She nodded. “I like that you like it.”
“When did you start baking?”
“I’ve been baking my whole life. Something about the way my grandmother used to always have the house smelling like fresh baked cookies.”
“Let me guess, your home smells like baked cookies too.” The elevator dinged, alerting us that we reached my floor, then the doors opened.
A small smile trespassed onto her features. “Considering my loft is right above my first bakery, maybe.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought as we walked toward the room at the end of the hall. “That sounds dope as fuck.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as the type to appreciate things like that.”
I waited until we made it fully into the room before I responded. “When I was a kid, I spent time between my father’s house and my grandmother’s spot. Grandma was always cooking and baking some shit. The smell of baked pastries and goods takes me back to childhood.”
“Same.”
I watched her move further into the room, her olive-green tube dress hugging her frame. Every time I looked at Selah, I felt like I was in some type of trance. She was the complete opposite of the women I usually went for. Instead of long, sewn-in tresses, she had collarbone-length, curly, jet-black hair that encased her chocolate face. She didn’t wear much makeup, if any at all, because no part of her needed it. She was perfect as fuck without it, a doe-like nose, piercing, slightly slanted eyes, and two-tone heart shaped lips.Fucking perfect.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, interrupting my mental rant of nothing but her.
“Because you beautiful as fuck.” I wasn’t even this type of nigga but I damn sure wasn’t gonna lie.
“Thank you for that. You don’t look so bad yourself. Are you drinking?” She tossed her head in the direction of the minibar.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m training.” Then I took my tux jacket off and laid it across the back of the couch. I took a seat next to it shortly after.
“For a fight? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you ain’t asked, and yeah, sorta.”
“What do you mean sorta?” She didn’t go to the bar but instead moved back toward me, taking a seat in the last empty space on the three-seater sofa.
“Means he still ain’t challenged me, but I know it’s coming.”
She nodded. “As your friend, am I invited to your fight?”
“I’on know. You gonna go?”
