He listened as I went over the information that they’d shared in the newsletter that morning and how we were supposed to be meeting about it after work on Tuesday.
“When are you supposed to have time to do all that?” he wondered.
I threw my hand in the air. “That’s what I’m saying!”
“They’d feel funny if you quit.”
I laughed. “Quit and do what?”
“Something you’re really passionate about. Writing books or something football related. Maybe running an organization designed to prepare athletes for professional ball.”
“That would be the dream.” I sighed. “Maybe one day.”
“I’d like to see that.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
“Well, I was going to see what you were doing tomorrow so I could see you, but you’ll be at the meeting.”
“Unfortunately,” I groaned. “But I really would like to see you. And soon.”
“Friday?” he suggested. “I’ll send a car for you or give you gas money—whatever I have to do to make it easier for you.”
Grinning, I placed my hand over my heart. “Lamar, you don’t have to do that. But I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“I’m asking you to come see me, so I’m going to make it easier for you,” he reiterated. “So, which would you prefer, getting driven up here or driving yourself?”
“I guess to get driven.”
“Done.”
My eyebrows flew up. “Really? That easy?”
“Come on, Jazmyn, you know that you can get anything you want from me.”
Every time the words came out of his mouth, I melted a little more. “I love”—my heart seized as I realized what almost slipped out of my mouth—“when you say that.”
He paused and my stomach plummeted.
Did he hear that? Does he know?
“You love…?” His voice was deeper, and his words were slower and more deliberate. “You love when I say you can get anything you want from me?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“And I mean it.”
“That’s why I love it,” I explained softly.
“Jazz…” He let out a faint groan. “You have no idea.”
We got off the phone a little while later, and I was still twisted up in knots about my Freudian slip.
I wasn’t in denial about my feelings for Lamar. But I wasn’t ready to share them. The last time I’d shared how I felt about us being together, he hadn’t said anything. If I told him I loved him and he didn’t say anything, it would be much worse.
I pursed my lips, determined not to get annoyed all over again.
He really didn’t say anything, I thought, annoyed.
