Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

Kimba

 

 

At least I’m not as drunk as Mona.

This occurs to me, though, whilst my legs are straight up in the air, the hem of my dress is scrunched at my waist, and my head hangs off the arm of the couch. I may not be drunk exactly, but maybe a little looser than I planned? And I only had half a gummy.

“I’m deadass serious when I ask this question,” Mona says, her words only slurring the slightest bit.

“What’s the question?”

“Are you ready for the question?”

“I just said…dammit, I’m ready. What’s your question, Mo?”

“Where are all the brothers who eat booty like groceries?”

It’s completely silent for several seconds and then we both start giggling uncontrollably. My head, hanging upside down, bobs against the back of the couch. Mona, stretched out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling fan, cackles and grips her midsection.

“Is this keeping you up at night?” I ask. “Not is the overall temperature of our planet rising at an unsustainable rate? Not how will we address the problem of mass incarceration? Or equal pay for women? But your existential question centers around men who eat ass?”

“I need a man who’s not afraid to put in that work. I mean, girls can do it for ourselves, but we can’t do that. And I get sick of getting myself off. I wanna share the burden.”

I snort. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“My BOB gets the job done, yeah, but it’s not…intimate. Ya know what I mean?” The amusement fades from Mona’s expression. “There’s nothing like being touched.”

Like the urgent squeeze of Ezra’s hands on me, the caress of his breath. The gentle touch of something as simple as being helped down to the ground. The desperate need in how tightly he clutched me. It had been affirming.

Mona’s right. There’s nothing like the touch of someone who wants you as much as you want them.

“I miss being fucked,” Mona says. She sits up and reaches for her wine, shunning the glass and taking the bottle straight to her lips. “Feeling a man inside me, hitting that spot over and over, that makes me lose my mind. Clawing and scratching because the shit is so good. I miss being kissed and held.”

She lies back down. “Hell, I miss waking up with somebody beside me. That morning wood poking you from behind.” Her laugh is bittersweet. “My ex liked to fuck first thing. Said there was nothing better to start off his day than…” She shakes her head, leaving the thought incomplete.

“You miss him?” I ask softly.

“He cheated on me.” She bites her bottom lip and takes another swig of wine. “Yeah, I miss his trifling ass.”

“I’m sorry, Mo. How’d you find out?”

“Oh, he was decent enough to tell me himself because he wanted out. Sat me down and said he’d met someone at work. She was younger, skinnier and lighter than me, but, of course, none of those things mattered to him. Their minds had met on an intellectual plane.”

She shoots me an icily ironic look. “Bitch did graduate from Penn. Made me sick. Miss I Got Everything And Your Man. He better not be eating her ass. He never ate booty or did any freaky, adventurous shit with me.”

Mona’s funny as hell even when she’s hurting, so an involuntary smile quirks my lips. One she ruefully returns.

She sits up again, cross-legged, and flings her long dreadlocks over one shoulder. “I could have cheated. Think I didn’t have offers? Opportunities? I did, but I would never do that to another person.”

I sit up, leaving my legs in the air resting against the back of the couch, but propping my elbows on the edge. “I kissed Ezra.”

As soon as the confession hits the air, I want to take it back. Damn wine, loosening my lips and lowering my guard.

“Kimba,” Mona groans, dropping her head to her hands. “You said you had this under control. That you were just friends. Just gonna talk.”

“Yeah, but that was before he told me—”

“I don’t care what he told you.” Mona stands a little unsteadily, the fog clearing from her eyes. “That’s somebody else’s man. A good woman. A friend of mine. The mother of his child.”

“But Mo—”

“Don’t but Mo me. They’ve been together almost ten years. You can’t just waltz into their lives from on high for a month and tear that family apart.”

“I’m not tearing anything apart. I—”

“How could you, Kimba?”

“She’s fucking someone else,” I blurt. Were I completely sober, I doubt I would have said that.

“She’s what?” Mona’s eyes widen and her mouth hangs open. “Aiko?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” I groan, not drunk enough for a hangover, but just drunk enough to make a fool of myself and put everyone’s business in the streets.

“But ya did, so go on. Explain.”

“You and Ezra are friends. He’ll tell you when the time is right.”

“The time is right now, honey. You opened this can of worms. Don’t try to go shoving them back in now.”

I sigh and pluck at the frothy, shimmery layers of my skirt. “She asked for an open relationship. Ezra didn’t want it, said things weren’t getting better, and they’ve decided to break it off.”

“Aiko asked for an open relationship?” Mona’s face is skeptical. “Homegirl gets jealous, green as a butter bean over Ezra. I can’t imagine her being okay with him…are you sure?”

“Well, that’s what he told me. He says he wanted to make a clean break because they’ve been having trouble for a while.”

I sit up enough to glance at her over my shoulder. “Is that true?”

“I mean, I know they were seeing a counselor, but I assumed it was just them being smart, proactive. Keeping the lines of communication open.”

“Oh, they’re open all right,” I say dryly. “According to him, they’re over.”

“So Ezra told you this and you two kissed?”

I clear my throat. “Twice.”

“And did you do more than kiss?”

I love Mona, but I’m not getting into the details of Ezra’s fingers inside me, his mouth hot and suckling at my breast. In my mind’s eye, there’s an aerial shot of Ezra and me on that trampoline, breathing hard, turned into each other, unable to look away in the moonlight, intimacy curling deliciously between our bodies.

“Just kissed, but he wants more.” I meet her eyes across the room. “So do I.”

“Look, I’m not that chick who tells a grown-ass woman where to get the dick or how to run her life,” she says, “but I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t say this. They are a family. Aiko is not just some girl he found on Tinder and then decided it’s quits. He hasn’t been with anyone but her for ten years, and they have a son together. Things happened fast and things just happened. It ain’t over ’til it’s over, and if anyone gets hurt when things go south, it’ll be you.”

And I cannot afford to be hurt, not with everything already on my plate.

The kitchen door opens and heavy footsteps approach the living room. I’m on high alert, but Mona looks pretty calm about it.

“Well, here we go,” she says resignedly.

“It’s just me,” Ezra yells from the doorway.

The sight of him standing at the entrance to Mona’s living room sends shock spearing through me. He looks goooooood. His broad shoulders fill the doorway, and the dark jeans and YLA T-shirt show off the lean muscles in his arms and legs. His hair has grown just a little, long enough to curl the slightest bit, and my fingers pulse with the need to scrape across his scalp and burrow into the soft pelt of it. A little scruff shadows his sharply drawn jawline. He’s sun-bronzed, contrasting with the white flash of his smile.

A smile that evaporates when he sees me.

“Tru, I didn’t know you were here.” He clears his throat. “Sorry to barge in, Mo.”

“Like you don’t bust up in here every damn day unannounced,” she says. “One day, you gonna get an eyeful.”

She walks over and gives him a hug. He watches me over her shoulder, his eyes running along my bare legs, still flung over the couch. My instinct is to sit up, cover myself, preserve some modesty.

But I don’t.

My other instinct is to make him want me the way I want him. The heat of his stare is addictive. His eyes caress my bare shoulders and legs, and despite the warm summer night, my body is covered in goose bumps.

“You’re back early.” My voice comes out husky, breathless.

“Uh, yeah.” He makes no move to come farther into the room. “I wanted to get back.”

When he looks at me, I missed you is in his eyes.

I’ll wait is in the hands he shoves into his pockets.

Without saying a word, his body tells me with eloquence how he feels, what he wants. I want it, too, but Mona’s warnings ring in my ears.

If anyone gets hurt when things go south, it’ll be you.

“I got edibles and wine,” Mona tells him, walking back to her bottle on the floor. “Join us.”

“You know I don’t do weed,” he says wryly. “I can’t spare that many brain cells.”

He focuses on her while he talks, but his gaze keeps drifting back to my legs. I bend my knee and run my fingers along my thigh.

Just to see what happens.

He lowers his head. His Adam’s apple bobs with a deep swallow. The muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Noah got to camp okay?” Mona asks, flicking a look between the two of us.

Ezra nods. “He walked in like he owned the place, of course.”

“He probably will by the time it’s over.” Mona laughs. “You’ve gotta play Monopoly with this kid, Kimba. Ruthless kingpin.”

Her comment falls into the vat of silence accumulating between Ezra and me. We watch each other warily, furtively.

“So, no gummies,” Mona says, grabbing an unopened bottle of wine from the coffee table. “Wine? Join the party.”

“I think I’ll go actually,” he says, his voice deep and graveled. “I just wanted to let you know I was home early in case you needed anything.”

“Like a good neighbor,” Mona says. “Oooooh, what if I lived next door to the State Farm guy? He’s so fine on those commercials. I’d be borrowing sugar every day.”

 “Yeah, well,” he says, his words clipped, controlled. “I’m gonna go.”

When he leaves, Mona looks at me and shakes her head. “Be careful, girl. If I were you, I wouldn’t.”

But she’s not me, and looking at the empty place where Ezra just stood, I already know I probably will.