Page 10 of Pretty and Loco

“Yeah. It’s that look.” I reminded him.

“I told you I like what I see.”

I smiled.

The moment Rocko had me blushing like an idiot and acting like a schoolgirl, I knew it was over for him. Somebody had better call Daya and tell her to get me NOW.

“How was practice today?” I asked.

“It was cool. We got some good work in. I needed it.” He shrugged. “What about you? I know you said you were going to meet someone today.”

“Yeah. The couple is having their tenth anniversary party. I just sent them over their contract.”

“You like what you do?” He asked.

“Yeah. I love everything about event planning. I know it’s my job, but I have so much fun doing it that it hardly ever feels like work at all.”

He nodded. “I respect that.”

The conversation took on a life of its own, and we bonded over the fact that we both believed our current careers are our purpose. Although Rocko was typically a man of few words, he was a good conversationalist. And he was a great listener. He proved that when the waitress brought out the meal that I told him I ordered every time I came to this restaurant.

I made a big deal about it. Because that’s such a small detail that people typically don’t remember, but he did. He brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But like they said, to be loved is to be seen.

Our conversation went from passion to romance. Over this last week, we’ve talked, but we haven’t had any deeper conversations. We had only really covered the basics: names, careers, schedules, where we’re from, that kind of thing. His schedule was hectic, and so was mine, so we’d text throughout the day or talk for a couple of minutes before we both wound down for bed. But tonight we didn’t have those limitations.

“Are you ready for a relationship?” I asked.

“Nah.” He was honest.

My chest tightened a bit because I didn’t know how to do casual anything. I would love to be the woman who knew the importance of dating. The woman who could have different men, each serving a purpose. But that wasn’t me. Never had been. Either I was so far removed, or I had to be removed.

“Interesting.” I nodded.

He smirked. “I don’t want anything too serious. I don’t want to live with nobody and have to share my boxers and shit.”

I laughed, but he didn’t.

“I’m serious.” He continued. “I don’t want it to be too much pressure. I definitely want a wife and kids. But not right now. Not while I’m still building.”

I nodded my understanding.

The key word in that sentence was now. It’s basic grammar and comprehension. Because while he meant one thing, adding the word “now” changed it. He had basically just told me that I was the one; all I had to do was wait a bit.

“I don’t do situationships, Mr. Sanders.” I wasn’t trying to pressure him or sway his stance. But I felt the need to give him the same fair warning that he had just given me. If he thought that this was what it would be, he would be in for a rude awakening.

“I never expected you to, baby.” He said, sitting back in the chair like he had forgotten he was in a restaurant, not on a bench. “You too pretty for a man not to want to show you off and make you his girl.” This man was slicker than edge control. He was a smooth talker, and the more he did, the more scared I became.

“I hear you.” It was all I said. I did my due diligence by warning him. Whether or not the warning was detailed was debatable, but I issued one nonetheless.

I decided to let the conversation rest for now. This was the first date, and I didn’t want to do that thing that I always found myself doing. Because throughout the entire night, I found myself in a mental battle. Constantly reminding myself not to be “too pushy” or “too forward” or “too clingy” or whatever my doctor and those niggas always whined about. But I couldn’t help it; this was me. They say I need psychotropics, and I say I’m a hopeless romantic—tomato, tomahto.

“You done with your food?” He asked once he saw me twirling my fork aimlessly while I did one of the grounding techniques Kennedy had taught me.

“Yeah.”

“You ready to go?” He asked before he slid the chair back.

“Yes.” I smiled.