He looks at me. “A taste is never enough.”
We hold eye contact. He licks his lips, and I force myself to look away. I’m not going back. At least, not tonight.
The dessert is just as good as the mac and cheese. Everything was delicious, and this place is officially on my list whenever I need a soul food fix.
We linger for a minute after we finish, neither of us in a rush to move, and the night stretches just a little longer than it probably should. Then somehow, without me really noticing how we got there, we’re back at my house.
The drive was easy. Conversation came and went, nothing too deep, but it felt a little too close to normal for me. Closer than I’m comfortable with.
He comes around and opens my door, and I wait without thinking now. It’s been a while, but it’s easy to fall back into a man opening doors for you. He takes my hand and walks me up to my porch, and somewhere between the car and my front door, anxiety starts creeping in.
This night is ending.
Well... I don’t know how this night is ending. I just know what it could turn into.
I’ve had those moments with him before, and they were good. Really good. But I said I’m not going back there again. At least not right now.
We stop on my porch, face to face. He still has my hand, hasn’t let go, and then he takes my other hand too. My breath catches before I can stop it.
He leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek.
It surprises me so much I almost laugh.
“I had a good time,” he says. “Thank you.”
I look up at him, a little thrown off, because I should be thanking him. He planned the perfect night for me, and he’s thanking me.
“I had the best time,” I tell him. “Really. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, smiling softly. “I hope we can do it again soon.”
He lets go of my hands and steps back, giving me space to unlock my door, and I just stand there for a second, staring at him.
Because why isn’t he on me? Why isn’t he trying harder?
I might let him.
I unlock the door, and he tells me goodnight, watching as I step inside and close it. A second later, I hear his footsteps going down the porch steps, then his car door.
Then nothing.
I set my keys in the bowl, walk over to the couch, and drop down, staring straight ahead.
I don’t know what just happened.
That’s not the Javonte I know. It’s not the one I expected.
I let out a slow breath and let the night replay in my mind. The exhibit makes my heart flutter, the way he didn’t rush me or try to pull my attention, just let me have that moment for myself. It wasn’t about him at all.
Then dinner. The way he held my hand.
My chest tightens.
This is exactly why I didn’t want to go out with him.
No... it’s not.
I’m realizing there’s a new version of him. A better one.
