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Once we were all seated with our plates, the conversation flowed and so did the laughter. I was right at home. What home should have felt like for me. Loud talking, dishes clinking, trash being talked, the threat of a spades game lingering around the corner, and music. This was what love was.
All during the dinner, Bakari reached over and grabbed my hand, singing along horribly to the smooth R&B pumping through the speakers. Sometimes, he’d even lift my hand to his lips and kiss my knuckles.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but I was on top of the world.
“Y'all ready for some dessert?” Marcus asked over the swelling noise of conversation. Everyone clapped their hands together in agreement. “Good, good,” Marcus said with a wide grin. “Lyric, tell the people what you made.” He nudged her to the front and she cleared her throat.
“Hey everyone.” She smiled and I caught Hakim smiling back. He’d crushed every piece of food that touched his plate so there was no question about her winning him over. “I baked a traditional chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting and vanilla bean ice cream. I hope you enjoy.” She bowed her head and took a quick step back but not before Hakim’s hand shot into the air.
“Nigga, you better not be an asshole,” Bakari gritted out low enough so that his mother didn’t hear.
“Chill. I got this,” he fussed. “Chef Lyric.” He stood to his feet. “Did you also make the ice cream?”
“I did,” she nodded proudly.
“Good. Everything else has been fantastic. I can’t wait to taste it.” He wet his lips and Lyric’s smile wobbled for a minute, another look swarming her bright eyes.
I knew that look.
Bakari made me look like that all the fucking time.
“Okay then…” Marcus chuckled uneasily. “The first slice is a special one.” He glanced at Bakari who stood and made his way to the front where Lyric handed him a prepared plate.
Unthinkableby Alicia Keys played in the background as Bakari walked over to me on those long legs I loved so much. He sat the plate down in front of me, then sat beside me. His arrogant smile was in place because…this was Bakari.
On the plate of chocolate cake and ice cream, the words,Will you be my girlfriend?were written in chocolate syrup.
My heart stuttered in my chest at the sweet gesture.
“Sanai Sinclair, you’ve gotten on my damn nerves since the day I met you.” Everyone laughed, including me. I blinked rapidly, trying to stop the flow of inevitable tears from coming. “But you’ve also been the realest person I’ve ever met. You’ve had my back from day one and I’ve had yours.
I promise to give you the happiness you deserve every day until it’s time to change your last name. Will you be my woman?”
“Yes!” I squeaked, hopping up from my seat to hug him. He pulled me into his lap and kissed me in front of everyone. It wouldn’t have been Bakari Godwin if he didn’t do it big and flashy.
“Only this nigga would go over the top with a girlfriend proposal,” Hakim chided his brother.
“Because I do it big. My girl deserves all the fanfare.” He squeezed my sides and kissed and quick trail down my neck.
“I think it’s sweet,” Zee said, dabbing at her eyes. “Y'all are so cute.”
“Thank you, Zee.” I smiled at her, high on all the love in the air.
“So this means the marriage proposal is going to be bananas,” Maasai declared. “I already know how my little brother is.”
“He’s going to propose on top of the Eiffel Tower or some dramatic shit,” Hakim laughed his words out.
“As long as y'all know she deserves it.” Bakari leaned in and kissed me while everyone around us cheered and clapped.
I couldn’t pull away from his lips, though. Even when everyone went back to talking amongst themselves and Hakim went back for his fifth plate, Bakari and I were magnets. We were inseparable forces determined to be together.
“We got a lil situation here,” he whispered in my ear, making his hard dick jump against my ass.
“Bakari, there’s no way in hell we can sneak off right now.” I grinned against his ear.
“You wanna bet?” He stood, holding my hand and using me to shield his erection as he walked with me toward the back. We moved past the kitchen where I picked up a piece of conversation Lyric was having on the phone. She was fussing at someone about constantly calling her and I made a mental note to ask about it later.
Now, it was time for Bakari and I to do what we did best.
