Lennox must’ve caught my slight maneuver to his other side and he frowned. “Everything okay?”
Slipping my gaze to Colton, who was chillin’ at the bar with his brother, I met his eyes. “Yeah,” I lied. The last thing I wanted was to run into my ex on this date.
He seemed to accept my answer, and we made our way to a roped-off section.
Another man approached us. “What’s up, Len? ‘Bout time, bruh.”
They exchanged some sort of secret handshake before Lennox gave him a man hug. “Figured it was high time I showed my face,” Lennox said. “Blake—” he wrapped his arm around my waist, “—this is Cross. He owns this joint.”
“Hey, Blake.” Cross smiled and shook my hand.
Damn. Cross was fine as hell—dark skin, intense eyes, full lips. Not as hot as Lennox, though. “Hi.”
Cross ushered us to a private area. A table was tucked into a nook, hidden away from prying eyes. Lennox helped me remove my coat and pulled out a chair. Once I took my seat, he sat across from me.
“I took the liberty of putting something together for your lady,” Cross said. “Your usual, man?”
Lennox nodded. “Yeah.”
Leaning in, I whispered, “What’s your usual? And are we talking drinks or cigars?”
“Both,” Lennox said.
“Bulleit, neat,” Cross offered. “He’s come a long way from that cheap gin we used to drink in college.”
The fact that he was a bourbon man made him that much more attractive to me. And since it wasn’t cognac, I said, “Nice. I’ll have the same.”
Cross set a box of cigars on the table. “Got it. Give me a few minutes.” He walked away, leaving us alone.Finally.
The melodious sound of a saxophone floated in the air, setting the mood. “How long have you known Cross?” Opening the box on the table, I studied the different cigars. Admittedly, I didn’t know shit about picking a cigar. Some had blue wrappers, some had gold. Some were fat and some thin. Some were long, some were short. And I was lost.
“We went to high school together, then to Howard University.” He observed me silently as I picked over the cigars, still unsure what I was looking for. “Have you smoked before?”
My eyes flashed to his, and I let out a nervous giggle. “Anything? Or just cigars?”
Lennox raised a brow. “Cigars, but now I’m curious. What else do you smoke?”
My cheeks burned. In the past, I wouldn’t have thought twice about admitting my occasional use of marijuana. It wasn’t like I smoked a joint every day. In fact, I rarely did. But for once, I found myself questioning everything—my words, my actions. No man had ever made me second-guess myself. “I have the right to remain silent.”
Lennox barked out a laugh. “But you’re not under arrest…?”
Maybe I am? Taking in his scent and sitting so close to him, I felt like a prisoner—hisprisoner. And dammit, the snarky response I’d planned to toss back evaporated under the weight of his intense stare. So, I changed the subject. “To answer your question, I’ve only smoked a cigar one time, with my brother. You’ll have to teach me the proper method.”
Lennox stared at me. “I can definitely do that.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
“Oliva Serie V, Double Robusto,” he told me.
“I’ll take that one,” I declared with a hard nod. “I want the full experience.”
He picked up one of the cigars. “Let’s try something mild,” he suggested, handing it to me. “Roll it gently between your fingers.”
Shifting in my seat, I crossed my legs and did as I was told.
“You’re feeling for lumps or soft spots,” he explained, placing his hand over mine and demonstrating the movement.
The air changed around us as my heart pounded in my ears. My skin burned when his fingers brushed over mine—just from that simple touch. I felt like I was coming undone, helpless to maintain control while I was with him.This man… Swallowing, I asked, “If I find any, is that good or bad?”
