Page 5 of The Plus One

Next, there was Jalen. Jalen had potential. Fine as hell. Six-two. Beard. No kids. Owned his own house. We had hooked up a few times after Kel and I broke up, and as far as I knew, he was still single. Last time I saw him, he’d asked to borrow two hundred dollars until payday. You know what nope. Nevermind I whispered. "That nigga would embarrass me in the airport because he wouldn't be able to afford his bags..."

“Talking to yourself now?”

I looked up at Bri, one of the bartenders. “Mind your business Bri.”

She chuckled as she grabbed my empty glasses. “I’m just making sure you good.”

“I’m fantastic.”

“You’re sitting here scrolling through your contacts saying nope out loud.”

“I’m conducting research.”

“Oh. What kind of research?”

“Dick research.” She froze. And then we both started laughing.

"I know that's right," she said giggling while walking away. I went back to my phone. This was going to be harder than I thought.

Maybe Sierra was right. Maybe I didn’t need a date for her wedding. I could go to Cancún by myself, look good as fuck, drink margaritas, celebrate my best friend, and ignore Markel and Tiana the entire week.

That was the mature thing to do. I reached for another lemon drop. Fuck maturity. I wanted a date. A good one. I wanted a man who looked good enough beside me that nobody would even think to ask whether I cared about Markel. Petty? Maybe. Did I give a damn? Not even a little bit.

“Bri.” The bartender looked over. “Get me another round.”

“You sure?”

I frowned. “Why are you asking me that today?”

“Because you’re drinking them like juice today.”

“I mean lemon drops basically are juice.”

“No, they aren't.”

“Another round, please.”

She stared at me for a second before reaching for the shaker. I smiled and went back to my phone. By the time the next flight appeared, I’d eliminated damn near every man I’d slept with in the last two years. Which was humbling. Maybe I needed to make better choices.

That would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I had a problem to solve. I glanced around the bar, maybe the answer wasn’t already in my phone. Ace’s wasn’t a club. That was one of the reasons I liked it. It had that grown vibe. Low lighting, good music, and great food.

And tonight, there were men everywhere. I slowly turned on my stool. Okay, maybe one of these niggas could work. There was a man at the end of the bar in a suit. He was fine. He had a bald head but he was fine until I seen the wedding-ring tan line.

I kept looking until I noticed a man sitting alone in a booth. He was cute then he stood up. Yikes. Five-six on a good day. I turned right back around. Because he was a big hell no for me. There was no way I could take a man to the wedding who would be shorter than me.

“Kema.”

I ignored whoever called my name.

“Kema.”

I tried to continue ignoring them but I felt a hand touch my wrist in front of me. The person slid my newest lemon drop away. My head snapped up. “What the fuck?”

“That’s enough.”

I knew that voice. I slowly looked to my right to find Ace Davis. He was on the other side of the bar staring at me. And for some reason, I forgot what the hell I was about to say. Maybe because I had never really looked at Ace before.

Not like this. I mean I’d seen him plenty of times. At cookouts. Birthday parties. And even random nights when Kel dragged me somewhere I didn’t want to go. He was always just Ace. Kel’s homeboy. The one with the bar. The quiet one who always seemed to know what was going on even when he wasn’t saying much.