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Maybe I was just desperate for a silver lining in the situation, but that little factoid gave me hope that I may not have completely fucked things up. And later that night, I decided to test the waters, letting residual liquid courage lead the way when I slid into Kendall’s DMs for a second time.
@KikiKnight: “Hey. I just wanted to apologize for earlier.”
Considering how late it was and how inactive Kendall was on social media -not that I was watching-, I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d see the message tonight or two weeks from now. But either way, I felt proud of myself for taking accountability, smiling as I read my words over and then saw them be marked as “seen”.
Oh shit.
@SnoopDogwood: “I had a feeling I’d find you here lol. Facetime me tho.”
When the next message was his phone number, I realized he was deadass serious. But the thought of us having a face-to-face conversation, even virtually, made me too nervous not to suggest another option.
@KikiKnight: “A text won’t do?”
@SnoopDogwood: “Nah, I’m too close to fallin’ asleep for that, and I wanna see you.”
It was at that moment that I realized just how much I must’ve liked him. Because with anybody else, a line like that still wouldn’t have been enough to move the needle. But with Kendall, him saying he wanted to see me meant I was pulling off my bonnet and putting on some lip gloss so that I could,albeit apprehensively, do what he’d asked.
When he answered the video call naked in bed, it somehow already felt worth it.
Not that he was completely nude.
At least, I didn’t think he was.
But he was very much shirtless, his lounged position against his headboard showing off the giant gorilla tattoo on his chest and a host of other animals going down his muscular arm that had my tongue wanting to play zookeeper.
Wow.
I’m really losing it.
While I was in my head being a horn ball, Kendall acted cool and calm enough for the both of us, grinning as he teased, “Well, well, well. Can’t say that I took you for the jealous type, Shakira.”
Rolling my eyes with a hint of playfulness, I responded, “I was mostly just disappointed in you.”
“Disappointed inme? What’d I do?”
“Sending me a drink while you’re out on a date with someone else? That’s not exactly chivalrous, Kendall.”
Of course, since that wasn’t what had actually happened, it was easy for him to say, “You saw what you wanted to see. Cause there was nothing about dinner with my damn sister that gave date vibes.”
“You pulled out her chair!” I argued.
“Yeah, to be funny.”
“Which I guess explains why you were grinning and laughing so hard,” I concluded, that realization only further extending my embarrassment as Kendall smirked and joked, “Wow. You were really clockin’ me, huh?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I’m just sayin’,” he chuckled.
“Anyway,” I groaned, pressed to change the subject to something more neutral when I asked, “Your sister. Is she younger than you or older?”
“Barely a year younger.”
“Oh, so your parents weren’t playin’,” I replied with a grin that Kendall matched when he agreed, “Not in the slightest. Had my older sister, took a four-year break, then went back-to-back with me and Anastasia.”
I didn’t know much about siblings, and birth order, and all that. But him being the middle childandthe only boy felt significant enough for me to make a mental note of before I asked, “Do they all live here in Houston?”
“Nah, only Ana. Everybody else is back in Nashville.”
