Page 60 of American Love Story

Patrice gave me that puzzled look he got sometimes and I thought he was going to tease me about OD-ing on my own positivity, but instead, he bent down to kiss me. He pressed his lips against mine. It was such a slow and chaste kiss compared to how we usually came together. But the way his fingers dug into my back made the stress of the day start to feel a bit less oppressive. I placed my hand at the nape of his neck and felt the prickle of his locs brushing against the back of my hand.

I groaned, wanting more, but Patrice wasn’t letting us get revved up. He was giving me this slow, gentle kiss and I was going to have to take it.

When we pulled apart, he had that same look from earlier, like things were getting too deep too fast and he wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing. “How do you know Yin’s sisters?”

He asked the question like he already knew or suspected the answer. I turned back around and fussed a bit with what I was doing. I picked up a piece of pumpkin, wondering when Patrice would notice the ingredients that were scattered all over the kitchen counter.

“I just helped her out when they first came,” I said, peeling another chunk of pumpkin. “I can’t give too many details, but it was a tough situation. I’m glad she was able to walk away from it.” I was not going to disclose about the violent boyfriend who threatened her and her siblings for months.

He ran a hand over my shoulder and said, “I can respect that.” He sounded curious, but I knew he’d leave it at that.

After another moment, he gasped and came to stand right next to me. “What are you making?” he asked, as if he could not quite believe what he was seeing.

I looked up, feeling really awkward now, wondering if the second part of my failed romantic date would also be a bust. I put down the vegetable and lifted my eyes to him.

“I’m making soup Joumou?” It wasn’t a question, it was what I was making, but now I felt like an idiot for trying to make his traditional dish as a surprise. He was still saying nothing, his eyes assessing the ingredients scattered all over the counter.

“I thought it would be nice since it’s?—”

He moved so fast that I had to lift my arms to the sides so I didn’t stain him with my hands. This kiss was one ofourkisses. Teeth, tongue, and fire. He sucked on my lip as he dug his hands into me. I felt like I was sinking and he kept lifting me up.

I pulled back, gasping for air, and the way he was looking at me was going to make it very hard for me to get back to soup making. “You’re making Joumou from scratch?”

“Yes?”

He laughed then and held my face in his hands, kissing me hard again. “Stop answering everything like you’re asking a question.”

I laughed, feeling flustered, but so glad that I’d made him laugh in the middle of all this stress. “Iamasking, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to mess it up. I looked for recipes, and it all seemed so straightforward, but now I’m kind of lost and there’s a large amount of pumpkin to peel.” I looked around at all the stuff I needed to get done for this soup and felt my earlier enthusiasm starting to wilt. “I could not find the Scotch Bonnet peppers that go in the soup anywhere and this might end up being more of a breakfast type of thing.”

He rolled the sleeves of his sweatshirt back and stood next to me, extending his hand. “I’ll peel. I have years of experience; you get the other stuff ready. With the two of us, we’ll have it ready before Ari and Yin come upstairs asking for dinner.” His smile faltered a little bit when he mentioned Ari, but he seemed in better spirits.

I nodded and reached for the limes and oranges I needed to juice for the marinade. “You peel and I cook.”

When I looked over my shoulder, I caught him giving my ass a very thorough assessment.

“See something you like, Professor?” I asked, certain that the response would probably derail our food preparations.

He leaned down and nibbled my ear, making me run the risk of severing a finger. “I’m gonna rail you tonight, you know that right?”

I chuckled as I halved limes and tried to talk without sounding completely breathless. “That was the only part of my failed seduction attempt I was pretty sure I could count on.”

Patrice’s laugh rang all over my kitchen as we worked together, and I felt so happy it almost scared me.

chapter seventeen

patrice

It had been the longest week in fucking history, but somehow Nesto had managed to stay on track and OuNYe’s first annual fundraiser for local social services agencies was happening tonight. I was meeting Easton at the courthouse, and we were supposed to walk there together.

Things with Ari had calmed down. He was still staying with me, but the plan was to find him a place. Harold Sheridan, Nesto’s business partner, was making noise about helping him with school and Easton had offered him a studio in our building for almost nothing. The lawyer he’d gotten for him was great, and Ari seemed to be slowly getting out of the funk he’d been in after that mess with his uncle. The man had made no attempt to get in touch with him in the week since he’d been staying with me, which told me him getting out of there had been the right move.

I’d seen again and again how people had come out to take care of Ari. The community that Nesto had found here in Ithaca had supported Ari in every way he needed. Despite the issues in town—and there were many—this place had come through in a big way for one of its own. I also felt like I’d been a part of that effort, that I was already part of the tapestry here somehow. Like I could make a place for myself here.

I should’ve known that the warm and fuzzy feeling wouldn’t last long. While I was trying to get into the courthouse, I stopped in my tracks as the bailiff looked me up and down a few times while I tried not to suck my teeth.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“I’m here to meet someone from the DA’s office. Easton Archer.” Polite, calm. I didn’t need to get heated.