She nodded, completely aware of how he moved.
“Furthermore, I don’t want anything from you that I can’t give you tenfold. And when you do give it to me, whatever it is, it’ll be because you wanted to without hesitation, doubts, or regrets.”
Doubting was a part of human nature. Najee knew that. He expected that from her for now. What he didn’t want was for her to regret anything up to this moment. And Orielle didn’t. Her heart knew she had made the best decisions, even if it came with harsh consequences.
She toyed with the ends of her hair and smiled, thanking the waitress as she returned Najee’s change. He left it there as a tip.
“I can see that happening,” she admitted.
Najee licked his lips as amusement filled his eyes. “Yeah? I’m glad we both can see the future.”
She chuckled. “Seriously, though. I can and I don’t know what it is, but I’m not running from it. The only thing I need to know is if you’re completely through with your ex.”
“Hell yeah,” Najee said with certainty. “Once you cross me, there ain’t no coming back.”
Renae was lucky to be alive. People had lost their lives for less. That wasn’t something Najee was proud to admit or brag about, and he never did. It was life... or death. Especially where he was from. There were no second chances when it came to him.
Najee left the forgiving up to God, while he simply forgot who the person was. It was better for everyone that way. She stared at him for a beat and sighed.
“Okay. Cool. I guess, we’re good then,friend.”
Najee laughed. “Yeah. Say that shit like you mean it.”
“Whatever. We can’t really be friends unless you tell me something.”
“What’s that?” he asked, finishing off his Sprite.
Orielle tapped one of her nude acrylic nails against the other, wondering if she should even bring it up. She wasn’t embarrassed to ask, but she would be if he didn’t give her the answer she was looking for. That was the ugly side of having expectations. She never knew if people would meet them.
“What’s the title of your favorite song from the ones I put on your keychain?”
The way his eyes expanded made Orielle’s heart drop.He hasn’t even listened, she thought. But her thoughts were completely wrong. Digging in the pocket of his jeans, Najee retrieved his keys. Her heart lifted and skipped a bit when he dangled the black quaver note from his index finger.
Sighing, Najee ran a hand down his beard that he’d grown out while locked up. “Damn. That’s a tough one. I was really feelingSee Mesince that’s the first on the playlist, but then I heardOne Thingand had that hoe on repeat for a minute.”
Orielle grinned so hard, and her heart almost burst out of her chest thanks to what he said next.
“ButAll The Waysis my favorite. You made it sound like you were having a conversation without the other person having to say a word. Like the letter you wrote me, but in a song. I don’t know how you did that, but the shit is genius.”
She thought so too, having alternated between the letter she gave him and her music notebook once the feelings hit her. Orielle had to get both out at once, and ironically, it was her favorite song, too. The layered harmonies and crazy rifts were about falling in love with a man she didn’t know, but he was perfect for her. How deep and safe his love was. How being soft no longer felt like a crime. Najee felt every word she sang.
Smiling, Orielle held a hand over her face. “Oh, wow. Okay.” She giggled. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I bet.” He chuckled. “You know what they say about expectations, though... You should only have them for the real nigga you know is going to meet and match them.”
Orielle had never in her life heard that statement, but of course, she hadn’t. It only applied to her when it came to Najee.
Her heart, the thing Orielle had no intentions of giving up, had been snatched. For all she cared, Najee could keep it. After all, she did label him a kidnapper and he was leaving up out of there with something.
The one thing Orielle hated and secretly enjoyed about getting her hair done at Moo’s shop was the gossip you were bound to hear. If Moo wasn’t there like today, most of the women were either tuned in listening, adding their two cents, or minding their business. Had she been there today, she wouldn’t have let anything they were talking about fly. She didn’t play that messy shit.
As one of the top award-winning stylists in the city, Moo had a reputation to maintain. She hadn’t made it this far because her name was always in the mix of some drama. Her shop was a place where you could come to unwind and escape the everyday stressors, while pampering yourself. And yes, it did get a little messy at times, but if she knew the other hairstylists were in there engaging, they wouldn’t have liked anything Moo had to say.
Orielle sat in her stylist, Tya’s chair, and crossed her legs. She was munching on a bag of Cheetos while the smell of freshlypressed hair, Got2b glue spray, and tea tree shampoo wafted around her. The insistent white noise from the blow dryer, occasional hiss of a curse word when someone got burned by the hot comb that was too close to the scalp, and random outbursts of laughter were so welcoming.
Tya had been the only person besides Moo, who Orielle allowed to touch her hair, and it’d been that way for years. Though she wished she could’ve taken credit for managing her real hair over the years, that’d be a lie. No one could lay her wigs like Tya could. The most Orielle could do was apply a little spray to the lace and melt it with an elastic wig band.
There were a nice number of women in the shop for a Friday afternoon. One was waiting on the couch for her turn, two were getting sew-ins, one was flinching while she got her hair pressed, and another was getting knotless boho braids past her waist.
