Page 29 of The One He Desires

The Next Day . . .

Most of the morning has been a blur because I have been envisioning Journee and my lips touching again. The sad part is that I didn’t do this when I was a teenager after my first taste of pussy. Like, what grown man freaks out or acts brand new over a kiss? But the truth is, the kiss was just the tip of the iceberg. The entire date had me tossing and turning last night because it was so great. I did my big one with the plans for something new and organic, for getting the chance to spend time with Journee. The only downfall is that I wasn’t ready to let her go. I know I had to, but I drove home like a puppy being forced to wean from its mother. Foolishness.

“What the fuck?” The urgent alarm in Pops’ voice snaps me out of my head as I look down.

“Oh shit!”

Wayward thoughts while in the middle of cutting Pops’ head probably weren’t a smart move. Pops now has a deep patch of hair missing from his head that I’m not sure will be repairable.

“I know good and damn well you didn’t just scalp me.” Pops is up and out of the chair before I can reply.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as my nerves take flight because this can go in any direction, depending on how Pops reacts. His head looks like an old dude from Barbershop 2, and all I can do is hope his reaction isn’t the same.

“Nigga!” Pops’ loud single word from his hall bathroom causes me to cut off the clippers still running in my right hand.

It takes him a millisecond to return to the kitchen as ice shines in his eyes. All I can do is apologize to him, because seeing the missing hair reminds me I messed up terribly.

“My bad, Pops. I⁠—”

“Nah. You need to run me this fade because your ass has been cutting my hair for years and has never scalped me. What the fuck is on your mind that’s got you fucking up my edge up and shit?”

I shift through scenarios, but dropping Journee into this mess doesn’t seem smart. Pops is right about how long I’ve been cutting his hair, and this has never happened. I’ve had an overloaded caseload, work, and family stress, but his hairline and cut have never wavered from perfection. My phone chimes with a text notification, instantly shifting my focus from Pops’ glare to my pocket. I set the clippers down and trip over my fingers to retrieve my device. I fight the urge to react when I see Journee’s name on my screen.

Journee:

Hey. If you’re not busy, Milan and I are at the park on Hampton.

Me:

Invitation accepted. I’ll see you soon.

The reaction I didn’t want to show makes its way outward as I lock my phone, grumbles coming from Pops.

“See. I should have known it was a pussy distraction. This is some bullshit. How the fuck am I gonna fuck on Marjorie looking like I got a damn lion’s mane?”

I laugh against my best judgment, and Pops growls before he charges toward me like a raging bull. I grab my keys and race out of the house like it’s on fire. I barely make it to my car without him catching me. But I do, and I peel out of his driveway like a competitive car driver determined to win the race. Pops’ voice follows me until I’m off the street as I breathe easy for the first time since the incident. I’ll come back after I spend time with Sweet Face and Journee. Hopefully, Pops has calmed down by the time I get back.

On The Other Side of Town . . .

I got up with a pep in my step and a smile on my lips. Yesterday was the best date I’ve ever had. Karaoke was intimidating at first, but getting to perform a duet with Sincere was life-changing. I felt like we’d been singing together for years. Staring into his eyes that shone with merriment and delight was everything. But because the devil is a hater, my good mood grew shaky when I got two back-to-back social media calls from BN.

As if my ignoring him wasn’t evident, he sent three nasty messages. I refuse to let him knock me off my high horse, so I’m taking Milan to the park. The invitation to Sincere to join us was thoughtless, simply because I craved seeing him again. I’m also curious to see if the interaction between Milan and Sincere has been a fluke or a genuine connection. Milan has been around men related to her for her entire life, but the way she took to Sincere would lead people to believe that I’m one of those women with multiple ‘uncles’ around their child. That has never been something I’ve done, nor would I, especially given the bum who helped create her.

“Twing, Mommy.” Milan snaps me out of my brief thoughts as I pull into a parking spot.

We’re at Willow Pines Metro Park, and it’s booming with people, which almost makes me want to change my mind. But I don’t feel like dealing with three-year-old tantrums before I’ve allowed Milan a chance to play off some of her energy. Besides that, it’s a beautiful day, and it seems unfair to both of us for me to go home bored.

“Wait for Mommy,” I say when I look and see Milan trying to unbuckle her safety belt.

I exit the vehicle and rush to the back so I can get this girl out before her impatience gets her in trouble.

“Pway, Mommy. Pway.” Milan points to the playground as I take her by the hand and lead her to the swings.

It takes me a second to lift Milan into the swing as I push it to get it going. Joy instantly transforms Milan’s face as she giggles like this is the best thing. The sounds of children enjoying playtime fill the air, helping me release the tension BN caused earlier. I don’t know why it’s all of a sudden so important for him to see Milan. But I wish he would keep the mentality he had before she was born. “Cere! Hi.” Milan waves animatedly, and I dang near get whiplash from how hard and fast I turn to look behind me.

The inner love thirsty woman in me jumps up and down when I see Sincere’s smooth swag in our direction. Jitters, elation, and hormones take turns fighting for the spotlight as I stare at Sincere like a starved kitten. The jersey shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes give him a relaxed look that I automatically appreciate. I fight the urge to focus on Sincere’s face rather than the lower part of his body. But it’s hard because I’m extremely curious to know if I’ll find a visible print with every step he takes toward me.

“Hey. How’s your day been?” Sincere’s voice pours over me like warm syrup as tingles slide down my spine.