If the word perfection needed a representative, Noble had to be first runner up. His face was crafted so perfectly that only God himself could take the praise. He had the coating of milk chocolate. So edible looking that Irish was tempted to taste him. Noble’s eyes were ominous, holding a wrath that she knew was deadly. His nose was broad with lips that were sculpted with fullness. Noble’s facial hair consisted of a mustache and a closely shaven beard. It was perfect. He was perfect with a fitted cap sitting low over his eyes.
Somberly, Irish faced forward and began eating. This part of her life would leave her frustrated, but it was what she had signed up for. She was a beard, pretending to be deeply in love with Jovanis when he was nothing more than her bestfriend. His lifestyle didn’t permit him to live an openly gay life and since she loved him so much, she was willing to be his cover up.
Unfortunately for Irish, that meant she had to suppress her desires in an attempt to protect him. It had been so long since she had been in the arms of another man. She’d dated in the past, but it didn’t get very far. Her loyalty to Jovanis didn’t allow her to dive in the deep end of love with another man. Jovanis always came first because he had always put her in the number one spot up until recently.
Glancing back at Noble, questions arose. The kind that she had been pushing toward the bottom of her mind like dirty laundry. The ones that she didn’t have answers for because answering them would require her to truly examine the situation she was in. Hesitantly, Irish resumed eating and continued to sketch out a few designs. After eating, she paid for her meal and tipped the bartender really well before strutting toward the elevator. Irish had to coach herself not to look toward Noble’s table. What would be the point? It wasn’t as if she could indulge freely with him.
Oh my God, why am I thinking of this man in this way?
Pressing the button, Irish waited patiently until the doors swayed open. Stepping on, she made the smooth shift to the lobby of the hotel. Walking outside, the humidity coated her skin as she passed her ticket to the valet driver. It would’ve been a nice night to go lay up with a lover and talk about all the topics that she kept bottled up in her mind.
“Soon,” she whispered to herself.
Noble licked his lips, watching her from a far. She glanced over her shoulder as she strutted out the room. Men broke their necks to watch her swagger out of the restaurant. Irish’s walk was mean. She worked her heels like a runway model that had years of experience. Her feminine energy was infectious as she caught everyone’s eye that passed her by. Her aura glowed like the moon against the nighttime skyline. Irish didn’t do much except exist and at the moment, she had locked Noble’s attention down.
“Nigga, don’t do it.”
Glancing at Vic, he smirked. “Do what?”
“You know what, nigga. You don’t think I seen you peepin’ her at the bar?”
“Nah, it’s the other way around. She was staring at me.”
Noble felt eyes on him while eating, and when he discovered the source, he spotted Irish. She often snuck sneaky glances of him, and he always noticed because he did the same thing.
“Nah, fam. It’s mutual,” Nuke joked.
Noble chuckled. He could always count on his cousin, Nuke, to call him out on his bullshit. It was one of the reasons he kept him around.
“You know that’s Jovanis’ wife and you know niggas don’t play about they wives,” Vic reminded him. “That ain’t what you want.”
“Who says I want her?” he challenged him.
A knowing expression covered Vic’s pudgy face. “Noble, we damn near family. I’ve been knowing you all my life so don’t even try me. I know when yo’ ass lock in on something. You locked in on ol’ girl, which I get.”
“He’s definitely locked in,” Nuke instigated.
“Honestly, I ain’t locked in,” Noble denied. “You acting like I move recklessly. I know she’s off limits but I’ma look when she’s around.”
“Shit, I be looking, too.” Vic simpered before licking his lips. “Her little freckle faced ass be looking good. Then, she never talks when I see her, which adds to her mystery. Shit, as a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even blame you if you saw ‘bout her.”
Noble smacked his lips, prompting Nuke to chortle.
“You just gave me this whole speech about not going there and now you saying you wouldn’t blame me. You a fake-ass nigga.”
“Shiiittt.” Vic scratched his scruffy chin hair. “I had to think about it.”
“You ain’t shit.” Noble got up and shook Nuke and Vic’s hands. “I’m gone. Hit me if you need me.”
“Yep.” Nuke tipped his head.
“A’ight, bro,” Vic added.
Noble headed toward the elevator, hoping he would get one last glimpse of the auburn head girl that captured his attention.
Irish watched people enter and exit the hotel while waiting for her car to arrive. Suddenly, the enticing scent of Imagination by Louis Vuitton entered her nose. She knew the scent because she had purchased it for Jovanis for his birthday a while back. Her lips parted as Noble stood a few feet away, handing his ticket to one of the valets. Again, Irish’s gaze scanned him from the top of his White Sox fitted cap down to hisblack designer sneakers. His head was down, as he tapped on his phone. She wondered if he was texting his woman, alerting her that he was on his way.
“Why you always staring?”
