“I think we should walk around alone and meet back here in twenty minutes.”
We all looked at each other, agreed, and split up.
I started walking around slow, heel clicking soft against the floor, with a drink in my hand, while I let my eyes move across the room.
The art was cool, real cool actually. Different styles, different moods. Some pieces felt calm, others felt like they had a story behind them… like pain dressed up to look pretty.
I stopped in front of one that caught my eye. Dark colors, gold running through it like cracks. Like something broken trying to hold itself together.
“What does this painting say to you?”
The voice came from behind me, not too close, but not too far.
I turned my head slowly.
And that’s when I saw him.
Tall… like tall, tall. Had to be about 6’2. Braids pulled back neat, skin clean, and those eyes, he had hazel eyes locked right on me like he already knew something about me.
He was dressed simple, all black, with gold chains around his neck and gold rings on his fingers.
I turned my body a lil’ more so I could face him fully, letting my eyes take him in without rushing it.
He ain’t look away either.
Just stood there, calm…like he had all the time in the world and already knew I wasn’t going nowhere.
I glanced back at the painting for a second, then back at him.
“I don’t know, to be honest.”
He nodded. “Is art not your thing?”
“It is, I just wasn’t expecting a singles event for my girls’ night out.”
“I can see that, but I’m glad you are here. I’m Love,” he said, reaching for my hand.
I gave it to him and responded, “I’m Islah.”
“Different, it fits you, beautiful.”
I smiled, taking the last sip of my drink.
“Can I buy you another drink?”
I looked at my glass and nodded. “Sure.”
Love took my hand like it belonged to him, and he walked me to the bar. He got me D’ussé and lemonade, and got Hennessy and Coke for himself.
I watched as he talked to the bartender and how everybody around him stared at him. He got our drinks, handed me mine, and took my hand again, leading me to an open table.
After we both took a sip of our drinks, I asked. “Why is everybody staring at you?”
He looked around and smirked at me. “Because I’m that nigga.”
A bitch got wet! Instantly.
I smirked, not even knowing how to respond at first, but that second sip pulled me together.
