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“Why can’t you write for an hour?”
Amanda shrugged. “I told you, I lost passion for it.”
He ran his fingers down the spine of a collection of James Baldwin essays. His father had the same one at home. “I hope you find it again.”
“Okay, so what are we doing?”
He turned around. “What do you mean?”
“It’s almost 9 o’clock. I usually try to be in bed by then,” she said, a sly smile creeping across her face.
He tried his best to sound nonchalant. “Well, don’t let me keep you up. I still have homework, so I can just crash out here on the couch.”
“Bakari.”
He knew that tone. It filled him with dread. She stood and walked toward him, and he tried desperately to think of something to say, something that would get her talking again. There was nothing.
She was walking slowly, but she reached him faster than he’d expected. A million thoughts raced through his mind. He and Danielle had never talked about what they were or what they expected. She had even told him she didn’t like labels, so it wasn’t like she was his girlfriend. Cool. But he still had feelings for her, and for some reason, he felt like he’d be cheating on her. And beyond Danielle, he was wary of starting things back up with Amanda. She didn’t take rejection well, and he’d finally gotten to a place where she wasn’t calling him all the time. She had given him space, and things had cooled down considerably. Doing this with her now would only put him right back where he didn’t wanna be: in her sights.
She stood on her toes in front of him and kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back, but the rest of his body didn’t care about his sudden principles.
But what was the harm? It was just sex. And she was giving him a place to lay his head when she really could have said no. Besides, her couch didn’t look all that comfortable anyway.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back. He felt her body relax. She had been tightly wound like a coiled snake that was poised to attack, but now, she was chill. Yeah, he was doing the right thing. Definitely.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“SohowdidBria’ssession go?” Marcus asked from the kitchen.
Ladonna walked in and set her purse on the counter next to a bowl of green apples. “Fine. She goes back in a couple of weeks. I think we’ll stick with twice a month until she starts doing better.”
“Did they talk to her about that hand?”
“I wouldn’t know. I stayed in the waiting area.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“She wanted to go in there alone. I wasn’t gonna fight her on it. I just want her to get better.” She kicked off her shoes and sat across from Marcus at the table. “But Dr. Meriwether did call me in at the end. She wants to put Bria on anti-anxiety meds.”
She expected Marcus to rant and rave, or at least be authoritarian with his, “No,” but instead, he didn’t say anything at all.
“What do you think about that?” she said.
He shrugged. “I think it’s whatever.”
“You serious?”
“If it’ll keep her from walking around here like a zombie every day, then I’m down for it.” He waved his hand dismissively. Ladonna decided to press her luck.
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Uh oh,” was his reply.
This was her chance to get it off her chest. Finally. And he seemed amenable. “About this car…I’m thinking it’s not the best idea right now.”
“Unacceptable.”
Well, that was short-lived.
