Page 3 of The Virgin Playboy

“My toys are fun, but I'm saying I'm still trying to be put into the mattress,” I admitted, Carly stomping in agreement. We was being a little too rowdy, and I had to remind these ladies I had neighbors.

“Are you looking for someone specific?” Yenory wondered out loud, but I knew it was because she always had an athlete she wanted to introduce to us, and honestly, I was good.

“No. I had some good times in Georgia. Some equally good times here. My mistake was fucking with this Dominican nigga a day or two before I left for GA. Emotionally unavailable, but the back was cracked, nothing in Atlanta ever lived up to it,” I joked.

“So, you’re looking for a papi?” Carly asked for clarification.

“To be fair, he was a Black papi, and no, I’m not looking for anything or anyone. If something were to fall in my lap, with how my life’s going, I don’t think I can handle more than casual. But asking the universe for something that specific, and the universe all of a sudden got jokes,” I laughed.

“I’m just looking to pour into myself right now, and very uninterested in being a rotating option for someone, so while I’m not looking, I’d never turn down someone looking for the same thing.”

“What if someone exceeded your expectations?” Yenory questioned.

“Yenory? I say this with love. Avi is an exception. Most men do not exceed anything. But I’m okay with being realistic. Enjoying the few things I still get joy out of. Or maybe I’m just too practical for romance, that a diamond in the rough could appear on a magic carpet and I’d still wonder if it aligned with the way my life was going. No, I’m happy with where they are. Expect nothing and your heart never breaks. Your expectations never lower. And most of all, you never lose yourself for a partner. But I will make room in my life for some dick though!”

CHAPTER TWO

Graham

“¿Les gustó ese? Cuál fue su favorito?⁠*” I questioned the smiling group of toothy toddlers, accompanied by their moms, as I wrapped up this week's story time. With the rigorous workload my doctoral program made me a slave to, I barely had any time to spend working a part time job to help pay for it, let alone a full time one.

But there was something about being in a place far from home for so long, the little time I did have, it was well spent aiding underserved communities. A few times a month, I volunteered as a library clerk, because I’d loved libraries growing up, I was really good around kids, and the time spent reminded me that I was more than just my prestigious education.

Being here gave me a chance to use the Spanish I'd learned in an immersion program, which here in the Mott Haven area of the Bronx, I almost used exclusively. It had given me an opportunity to adjust it closer to what felt natural to the natives, which was predominantly Puerto Rican and Dominican. It was a challenge at first, considering it was so different than my mother tongue, but with my dark skin and curly hair, I'm afraid I just blended in. I had to constantly remind people that I wasn't Hispanic or Latino.

“I swear, the way you be packing in them fine ass single moms in your events needs to be studied. And the uptick of teenage girls' attendance in volunteers has increased since you got here. What's your secret, and how do we get the boys to come in and help?” Jaime, the library manager teased, a common argument that my presence made this library fun again. I know a lot of it had to do with how I looked, which was really a bizarre experience since where I was from, my appearance would garner a reaction that was the complete opposite.

“It's probably because you got all these girls fooled, thinking that you're a papi.”

“Yeah, nah. And then I talk in English and the fantasy just dies,” I joked. “I think I’m the first Polynesian person anyone has ever met, which for the most diverse city in the world, I don’t meet loads others. My whole time here I may have met two Native Hawaiians in total, but never Māori like me. Heck, I’d even settle for a Samoan, sheesh.”

“That's because you spend your free time with a new chick every night, instead of, I don't know, meeting actual people,” he chastised, reminding me of a very hard truth. Being in a doctoral program was demanding. It didn't give me time to truly dedicate myself to a relationship like I wanted, but when I first moved here eight years ago from New Zealand, I told myself I wanted to explore who I was as a person, without the chokehold of the identity and life I’d left behind.

“I can't help it. Dating puts me out there so that I don't have to feel pigeonholed to feeling drained from the laborious constraints of my uni's workload. Sure, I get to express myself in a way god intended, but that in itself can feel lonely. Sharing lived experiences, bonding on a deeper level. I can't have that if I don't try,” I confessed, as he helped me put the chairs up on the tables and waited until I gathered my coat and book bag before turning off the light.

“Now to date, you would have to consistently go out with the same person. What you're doing is some playboy shit, which I get. I was definitely out there being a hoe when I was your age. But after forty that shit catches up with you quick. My ass ain't got time,” he confessed, and I didn't blame him of his opinion of me.

If I were him, I would think the same thing about me, too. Truth was, I wasn't a player or a hoe. I just worked on a one date system. It was simple. In order for me to even consider a second date, I needed to be completely blown away by someone. Funny, clever, curious, secure, creative, kind, and sociable. I’m talking all of the traits. Only then did I factor in her looks, and whether I was physically attracted to her. Personality won me over more than nice smiles, or long hair, or attractive body types. If I wasn't taken by our connection, it was rare when I went on a second date. I didn't want to waste a woman's time by forcing anything, I only wanted to feel things to feel natural.

And then there was that other thing. The secret that was too hard to admit unless there was a true investment there.

“My one date system works better for me. It just means I don't waste anyone's time. I don’t know where life is going to take me after I graduate. I might stay here, I may float off to another country. What if I found myself in San Marino? I doubt anyone would follow me there when they're used to this fast life. But if I meet anyone special, I swear, you'll be the first to know.”

“Make sure you're strapping up out there. People ain't gonna tell you if they got something. Phew, trust me, I learned the hard way,” he lamented as I bid him goodbye and texted my date for tonight that I'd see her in thirty.

* Did you like that one? Which was your favorite?

CHAPTER THREE

Jaq

Rule number one on the way to your first author event: avoid that trenta green tea lemonade drenched in caffeine when you've got several blocks to walk. Not only was I twenty minutes late for my first ever book signing, (was it even a signing when I had no books to sign yet?) I had to hear all about it from my agent as I held my bladder hoping I didn't pee on myself before I reached the venue.

“Jaq. We've talked about this. How many reminders did I send you about the dates and times of all the signings I lined up for you?” Truthfully, as a newly retired news anchor, my time became more…frivolous. I used to live by alarms and strict deadlines, things that truly stressed me the fuck out.

Now that I leaned into this whole creative thing, it was nice not to have my whole week planned out. But today of all days, I wish I hadn’t chosen today to break out my thick soled Doc Marten’s. These things were hell when you were damn near in a rush.

“I know, I know. I just completely lost track of time waiting on the super to come and fix my ceiling fan. I didn't want that man alone in my house, but I promise I'm only like five minutes away.” I didn't mention how so much had changed since I've been away. Neighborhoods and monuments I knew and once loved were slowly losing the war to gentrification. Every other block I took a double take trying to remember what had been there before, replaced by a trendy new yoga studio.