“No thanks needed.” Mahari pulled out the chair next to Aspen, picked up the bracelet, and put it on her wrist. “As far as your question goes, the timing of everything is out of our control. Could we have been real and spoken up? Absolutely. Was it the right time? Considering this is where God has us now and not then, I’m guessing not. I believe timing is everything, and while this may not seem like the best time, it’s our time.”
“You’re right. I just need to get out my head.”
“That’s why I want us to continue going with the flow. I don’t want there to be any pressure, and if you ever feel like there is, let me know. I’m not switching up on you, Bunny.”
Aspen motioned with her fingers for Mahari to come closer. She placed a soft peck to his lips and smiled. “You never have, so I know you never will. You’ve always been you, Mahari. Please, don’t ever change. I don’t think my heart will be able to take it if you do.”
“I feel the same way. If we stay on the same page, we should be good.”
“And we will be.”
Mahari was in his zone.He’d been at the studio for hours, working on perfecting a beat he’d been dreaming about. That was how most of his music came to him, either in his sleep or while he was in the shower. It was a process no one would understand. Interviewers asked him about his process and when he explained it, they were perplexed from the complexity of it. Mahari assumed they thought making music was just playing with instruments, but to him and other producers, it was more. It was their lives.
As he was putting the finishing touches on everything, there was a knock at his door. Mahari’s brows dropped. It was almost midnight, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. His crew left hours ago, but he knew there were others there getting their work inas well. Pausing his music, Mahari got up and went to see who it was.
Aspen stood on the other side of the door with a bag of food and drinks in her hand. The smile she flashed at Mahari was contagious. He quickly kissed her forehead and took everything from her.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Mahari started, using his foot to close the door. “What are you doing here, Bunny? It’s late.”
“I know, but I haven’t seen you all day. You’ve been here since early this morning, so I thought we could have a late dinner together. Well, this will be my second dinner, but I wanted to make sure you ate too.”
Mahari set everything down and snaked his arms around Aspen. Their lips met, and it was the best sensation Mahari had felt all day. Anytime he kissed Aspen, he was in disbelief. The times he’d dreamed about were happening.
“Thank you, baby.”
“What do you always tell me?” Aspen pecked his lips once more. “No thanks needed. Let me do for you like you do for me.”
“How did you get here?”
“I drove.”
“Aspen.”
“Mahari.”
“Why didn’t you let me know? I could’ve arranged for a car service to come get you.”
Instead of answering Mahari right away, Aspen grabbed the bag of food and plopped down on one of the chairs. Mahari did the same, waiting as she passed out the food. They said grace before digging in.
After a few bites of her messy burger, Aspen wiped her mouth and replied, “I may be pregnant, but I’m more than capableof doing most things for myself. I wanted to surprise you, so driving was my only option.”
“If you say so. But for real, thank you. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled the food.”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
Mahari hunched his shoulders. “I’m not even sure. I’ve been so deep in this music that I haven’t done much of anything else. I think I finally got it where I want it, though.”
“Can I hear it?”
With a mouth full of burger, Mahari bobbed his head and pressed a few things on his soundboard before the slow, rhythmic music filled the air. Every few months, he’d get in his R&B bag. The one he’d been working on spoke to his soul in different ways. It brought different emotions out of him, and he knew exactly what artist he wanted to sell it to.
As he continued eating, he watched Aspen to see if she was vibing to it. From the way her eyes were closed while she swayed from side to side, he believed she was. R&B was her favorite genre of music, and when he produced the beat, he did so with her in mind.
When the music stopped, Aspen peered at Mahari proudly. “That was absolutely beautiful, Mahari. How long did it take you to come up with that?”
“It’s been in my head for a few weeks. You inspired it.”
“Me?” Aspen pointed at herself, and Mahari nodded.
