“You’re not my man and I enjoyed making a friend.”
He laughed.“Nyla isn’t your friend if she’s trying to come between our love.”
My eyes rolled and his hands were moving.“And although I’m the best part of your crash course of the city, I have something else in mind.”
He drove us downtown to a hotel called The Metropolitan where we took a private elevator to the rooftop set up with vendor tents from local restaurants and stores.
“What’s this?”
“Taste of the City. They have it a couple times a year, where a lot of the best places in the city set up to give you an overview of why Crescent Falls is the only place you need to be. I told you I was giving you a crash course.”
“You’re originally from Chicago, so how is it fuck your city?”
“I fuck with Chicago, but I’ve been here for so long that this is home. I’ve lived in Crescent Falls only as an adult, so my memories of Chicago can’t compete with what I have here.”
“Traitor,”I signed and he chuckled, dropping an arm around my shoulders as we started our rounds. It was cold as shit up here but most of the tents were heated or had free standing outdoor heaters, so it wasn’t that bad.
My crash course began with a hot matcha from Brewed Bean and as a matcha connoisseur, I had to admit their turmeric ginger vanilla matcha was the best I ever had. It was now my new favorite and I was seriously considering a second after I finished.
The only thing that stopped me was everything accessible at the moment. We were currently standing outside of the Just Tattoo tent and their artwork was beautiful. The whole needle in skin thing completely turned me off but the display of their artists’ work had me contemplating the possibility of getting one…for all of five seconds.
“They’re doing tattoos?”
“Yeah, you want one?”
“No, I’m not a masochist. Did they do yours?”
“Most of them, yes. I’ve gotten a few while traveling.”
“I thought your tattoo person was supposed to be like your barber. You don’t cheat on them.”
He smiled amusedly.“Most of the time, yes, because you can’t trust everyone. That shit is permanent. I do have a few people I trust in other places. East at Eastside in Atlanta is pretty much the only one other than my artist at Just though. You want me to hook you up?”
“Nope. I have no interest in ink and needles piercing my skin.”
“You don’t have any at all?”
My face heated.“I’m pretty sure you would know if I did.”
Ryland stepped closer, so his chest touched mine. “I wasn’t really focused on all that when I had you naked but I plan on doing a full body search later.” He spoke the words without signing them.
“Or so you think.”I eased around Ryland and walked to the table for Taste of Nigeria. The woman greeted me and Ryland interpreted for us when she held up a plate, offering a sample. After our first stop, he asked if I wanted him to interpret for me.
I appreciated that he asked instead of assuming and taking over. That was another thing that made being around him easy. He moved with my flow, following my lead for what I needed. I didn’t have to feel like I was incapable or inadequate in his space.
After learning that the sample was jollof rice and suya, I thanked her, accepted the plate, and maneuvered the fork she offered into the rice, groaning in pleasure from my first bite. It was so damn good.
Ryland watched me, amused. I didn’t even care that I was tearing the plate down with a full audience there to witness. When I finished, I lifted one of the card-sized menus with their top rated dishes and restaurant information printed on both sides and placed it in my crossbody.
“That your first time having Nigerian food?”
“Yes and I’m sold,”I signed with a grin.
“Don’t send that shit to Joy, trying to get her to make it. I peeped you taking pictures of your food this morning. She can’t fuck with Morningside.”
I smiled big as hell.“She can try.”
“It won’t be the same. Whenever you want it, I’ll order it for you.”
