Deshona playfully rolls her eyes as a mischievous smirk slides into place. “Cocky much?”
I press my index finger and thumb together as a low chuckle escapes my mouth. The air around the room becomes less tense as I continue with the conversation.
“On some real shit, I’m feeling you more than I should. But I can’t run from it. I didn’t move to Kaigood expecting to find someone so soon. Yet here I am.”
“If I’m being honest, I can admit to liking you too. It’s just—” Deshona stops talking as if she’s trying to formulate the right thing to say.
“Speak your mind; we’re adults.”
“I’m scared. Every man I’ve dated has confirmed my mom’s prediction that I can do bad myself. That I should be by myself instead of giving them a chance to treat me like shit.”
Damn. Her moms got her fucked up.
“No disrespect, but your mom’s negative experiences shouldn’t make you shit. My folks named me Alijah Khali Dawson, and last I checked, ain’t shit nigga is nowhere on my birth certificate. You can’t paint all men with the same brush, Dee.”
“I know.”
“Nah. We ain’t doing that shit. Lift your head like the mothafucking queen you are. I didn’t say that shit to make you feel a way. I just want you to understand that I’m not them.”
Deshona lifts her head, and although I can see water in her eyes, I also recognize the fighter within her.
“I hear you. So where are you going with this kumbaya moment?” Her lips shift into a smile that lights up the room.
Corny ass woman.
But your ass likes her. Don’t cap like you ain’t enjoying this conversation.
“I’m willing to try again with you if you’re willing to trust that I can be something new in your life.”
Now, who’s being corny? Sucka ass statement.
I smile to disarm and reassure Deshona and push through the statement that rings in my mind. But all bullshit aside, I want to explore more with this woman. Having her on my arm at my company party made me feel like a big steppa. Some of my colleagues gave me props and shit for having a woman like Deshona hidden in the wings. Not to mention the feelingsthat ran through my body when Deshona and I slow danced to several songs before the night ended. If that wasn’t motivation to move us out of the fuck buddy lane, the conversation I overheard earlier definitely was.
“Okay. Can we set some conditions first?”
Lord, women and their stipulations.
I laugh as I contemplate what type of things Deshona is about to put on the table. “Go ahead.”
“First things first, what’s your phone number? I think we should be able to communicate if one of us isn’t here but gets the urge to talk to the other.”
“That’s good shit. Let’s do this old school.”
Deshona’s eyes pinch as light giggles fall from her lips.
“Old school?”
“Mhm. Something like this: Yo, baby, I think you’re kinda fly. Let me have those digits.”
Deshona cracks up, and the sound makes me join her as a light feeling spreads through my chest.
“Only because I think you look cute when you’re thirsty,” she says when her laughter dies off.
“Bullshit. You know I’m your type. You gonna make me beg or give up those ten digits, woman?”
Deshona giggles again, covering her mouth with her left hand and shaking her head. Her eyes sparkle with stars, and I smile.
“You’re crazy. Okay, just this one time. My number is 380-442-4920.”
