Wezi rubbed the back of his neck and parted his lips into that Wezi-specific half- enchanting, half-nervous grin.
It took a minute longer than she was comfortable with, but Katenekwa regained her cognitive functions and spoke. “Gwen, can you give us a minute?”
Gwen’s face registered understanding, and she slipped out the door.
Whatever Gwen assumed she’d understood about Katenekwa’s request couldn’t be right.
Wezi was, simply put, an undefined complexity in Katenekwa’s life. He didn’t qualify as an ex because they’d never dated. Instead, he’d been one of her closest friends. Almost family. He’d filled whatever role her life needed, but never the part of a lover. What they did was flirt. Yet, she felt him deep within her in a way that often disqualified the pretentious role of friend.
Wezi stood, closed the space between them with two strides, and gathered her in his arms. She stiffened, then melted, but before she could enjoy his warmth, he pulled away.
And so, they stood facing each other in silence and awe till he spoke. “You look amazing, Kitty.”
Wezi, always generous with compliments.
Katenekwa wrapped her tired arms across her chest. An ineffective move with her 38Ds. She fought the urge to drop her arms to her sides, lest he thought she was uncomfortable.
Of course, she was, but he didn’t have to know that. For all he knew, his presence here meant nothing. Made her feel nothing. And oh, how she wished it was so.
“You don’t look bad yourself,” she said and bid her racing heart to still.
Wezi never looked bad. He was attractive without needing to try. Athletic build, extra dark roast coffee skin, face chiselled as if by a sculptor. His effortless beauty sometimes made her feel inadequate about her own looks.
Her pear-shaped figure was at the wrong end of the BMI chart, and she was short, with skin that burned in the sun even though she wasn’t light skinned. Oval face, small nose.
In her own right, she was attractive but next to Wezi? Even when he came straight out of bed—drowsy, crusted eyelids, bed-head Afro—Wezi was a looker.
“You cut your hair!” she said with a gasp.
He ran a hand over his short fade. “Yeah. My agent thought I’d book more jobs.”
Katenekwa went around the table and collapsed into the chair. “I take it the modelling is going well.”
“It’s all right. It was weird at first.”
Not as weird as it had been for her to come to work one morning and find Wezi’s image everywhere. It had been Lillian’s idea to use him on the festival’s promotional posters. Pretty people grab people’s attention.
Katenekwa’s longing gaze swept over Wezi. Ain’t that the truth, she thought. She pulled her attention away from him and chose a spot on the wall behind him to focus on. “So, I saw your name on the program for the festival.”
His head bobbed in a partial nod. “Yeah. They called me way back when. I heard you’re planning it. Congrats.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his legs at the ankle.
“K pulled a few strings before he….” Her sanity strained at the memory, and she choked. She willed the unpleasantness away. “So, you waited all day? You could have called.”
He flashed his teeth. “I thought I’d surprise you, and I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”
Her gaze left the wall for a second. Wanting to see him had never been the issue. It was what she’d do once she saw him that was a problem. “Of course, I’d want to see you.”
“That’s cool then because I need your help.”
“Yeah?”
“Remember when you told me I exemplify the ‘starving’ in ‘starving artist’?”
“I remember saying something like that, yes.”
“Well, that hasn’t changed all that much. I need a place to stay this week, just until after the show. I won’t take much, I swear. I just can’t afford a motel room right now.”
Wezi went on to explain how he’d be an invisible guest. Sure. Because she could be under the same roof with him and not see him, hear him, or smell him. She’d know. Her body would know. Her heart would know. And thus, it thumped wildly, singing tales of woe. But God, he was so cute. She leaned into her hands and followed the rhythm of his pacing while he explained himself.
He came to a stop in front of her. “What?”
“You do this over-talking thing when you’re nervous. It’s adorable,” she said.
He tucked in his lower lip into what might have been a pout had not the corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m a man. You can’t use that word to describe me.”
“So adorable!” she said in a mock whisper.
She could refuse. However, that option would require her to confront and verbalize all the pain he’d caused her, and frankly, now was not an appropriate time to go digging in the past. Besides, it was just a few days, and then he’d disappear into the night as only he knew how.
“Okay. You can stay with me. But you know I live in a one-bedroom, right? You’ll get the sofa.”
“I’ve slept on worse. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. We’re family.”
The light in his eyes went out.
***
Gwen and Wezi chatted endlessly about, well, everything. Katenekwa had never experienced such an easy connection with anyone. When she and Wezi had met, she’d taken a few months to warm up to the loud, overly affectionate guy who insisted on calling her ‘Kitty’. He’d come into her life chock full of hugs and kisses, and each time he left, her world froze over. He was her summer day. Had been. Guess she was no Gwen.
A little after ten pm, they dropped Gwen off at her flat after picking up pizza. Her exit left a conspicuous vacancy in the car that Katenekwa had not expected.
“So, you guys hit it off,” Katenekwa said.
“I’m shocked you hired her. She is so the opposite of you, Kitty.”
“Yeah, well, I needed some of that. People think I’m too serious.”
“Oh no, love. You’re downright scary.”
Katenekwa attempted a laugh to coax her heart back into her rib cage. As was its nature, it had taken a dive into her stomach when he called her “love.”
She needed him to say something else to warm the air that was rapidly dropping in temperature. She hadn’t been ready for this reunion. Not yet. So much had happened. And with Gwen’s exit, she was left with her uncomfortable and ill-defined emotions.
From what she could tell, neither of them had changed, yet their dynamic was off. Perhaps the passage of time and too many things left unsaid obstructed the flow of what had once been an effortless friendship.
Yes. That must be it. Never mind that her heart was running at a strange pace, her chest was constricted, and everything below her navel was swirling.
Desperate to be rid of his proximity, she drove at above her average speed. In fifteen minutes, they were at her door.
Wezi, guitar case in one hand, backpack in the other, studied her living room. “Nice place.”
Katenekwa strode past him to place the pizza on the coffee table, one of four pieces of furniture in her sparsely decorated living room.
“This is home.” She pointed to the pigeon-grey sofa, devoid of pillows. “I warned you about the sofa, though.”
“It looks all right.” He leaned his guitar case against the wall.
She was tempted to stand there and watch him take off his shoes—a real option in her current state of mind. Wezi’s presence messed up her brain in ways she failed to understand.
“So, I’m going to take a quick cold shower, but I’ll turn the heater on for you. Cool?”
He chuckled. “It’s cute how you think I bathe in hot water. That’s literally something I can’t afford to do. Cold is fine.”
The light returned to his eyes. Light and something seductive she’d never noticed before or had maybe denied. A dangerous something.
She blinked away the probable hallucination and crept toward the door leading to the hallway. “Okay, smart mouth. You can take a shower after I’m done.”
The indescribable thing in his eyes intensified and spilled over to his mouth. A quick lick of his lips, a flick of the tongue promised excitement, danger, and so much more.
She stepped back even though he hadn’t moved an inch since he’d set down his guitar.
“Imagine if, instead of taking those cold showers separately, we took one together,” he said, his voice pregnant with intent.
Katenekwa’s joints locked. She forced breath through her collapsing airways and prayed to God that her visceral reaction to his words was subtle. She sensed a sincerity in his offer that drove her crowded mind to riot and incited throbbing in parts of her body that shouldn’t have so much going on.
“Don’t be an ass, Wezi,” she said and disappeared into the passage before he could respond.
Katenekwa scrambled for the shower. She had to get under the water before her physiology overtook her cognition and directed her to jump on Wezi and make a life-altering mistake. She’d begun the ritual cold showers in high school to dowse the forbidden fires rampant in her young body. For her adult self, they served to rejuvenate her after a hard day’s work, but today her 28-year-old self reverted to her teenage struggle.
She forced herself to breathe.
The cold water cooled her hot skin but did nothing for the wildfire inside of her.
Shivering on the outside, burning on the inside, Katenekwa sat on her bed for the better part of an hour. Logic and longing warred inside her, and her brain went quiet. Every sound Wezi made incited a rhythmic change in her pulse.
To host a man she’d been attracted to for years was the darnedest thing to do. She hadn’t enjoyed the company of a man in months. She tried with Josiah, really she did. But often, when in his company, she found herself making plans for work.
Now here she was, paralyzed by the mere presence of a man she could never have. Must never have. Damn Wezi!
She surrendered to the speculative thoughts that took the seat of power in her mind. From memory, she recalled the shape of his body. The feel of his hard chest in those moments when he held her close. His scent—a soapy, lightly perfume she inhaled deeply every chance she got. The contrast of his coffee skin against her teak hue. How she longed to hold him forever. But her senses, when they returned, explained why Wezi was not worthy and provided evidence.
Stability—nil. Maturity—doubtful. Age—well, a year wasn’t so bad? It wasn’t like she’d be robbing the cradle or anything.
But the evidence that won the argument against Wezi was that he was too much like Kawana had been. Easy to love, endlessly optimistic, light-hearted, and charming. The kind of man women swooned over. The sort of man who could make a woman do just about anything—one who made women lose themselves.
She slapped her cheeks and shook herself from the trance.
His scent lingered in the air. She wrinkled her nose. All this from memory and one encounter?
Reason returned.
She just couldn’t let herself fall for a musician. Artists were…
She winced at the pain that stabbed her chest.
Her twin had been reckless. A true player. Look where that had gotten him. Although he’d probably be ecstatic to know that he, the great Keystone, had been immortalized in a murder-suicide. Never mind that he’d left their lives and their hearts in shreds. That was the kind of person Keystone was. Selfish. Reckless. He’d lived only for the moment and never once thought about the consequences of his actions. He’d never seen the gun coming. Never imagined that he’d hurt someone so much that she would decide his death, and hers was the only cure for her pain. Loving Keystone was loving a hurricane.
And Wezi? They were the best of friends, and Katenekwa had had enough of hurricanes to know to stay away from him. Of course, it had hurt when he’d left, but her mind knew it was better that way.
Certain that sufficient time had passed after his shower and with her desires back in maximum-security confinement, she joined him. The image of him sitting cross-legged in a pair of white shorts and a vest overthrew her high-security prison. Fugitive emotions rushed at her. Logic went out the window.
“Ta-da!” He waved his hand over the meal. His smile was wide and familiar.
Her heart warmed, and she felt at home. The tension in her face melted, and for the first time since he’d reappeared, she saw her Wezi – the Wezi she remembered. She could do this. It was just four days.
She joined him on the rug and tucked her legs under her. She sat close enough to not be suspicious but far enough to be safe.
“This pizza better be good, or I’m never eating with you again.” She stuck her tongue at him and grabbed a piece.
He hung his head and said in a plaintive tone, “Kitty won’t try new things.”
She flicked his shoulder. “I do try new things. Just meatless pizza? How did I forget you were vegetarian?”
“Well, we didn’t use to eat together much back in the day. K was always dragging me to parties.”
“You say it like it was torture.”
“But it was. I loved your brother, but he was tiresome. I prefer staying in.”
“Said no musician ever.”
“Why do you think we’re all party boys?”
She dodged his seeking eyes and twisted a braid around her index finger. “I didn’t say that.”
He parted his lips as if a million things fought to break out of his thoughts and become words. Instead, he shook his head and bit into his slice. “How do you like planning the Keystone Festival? Is it everything you ever dreamed of?”
Katenekwa warmed. “And more. I’m having the time of my life.”
“Yeah. You have always been weird. I still have a hard time believing you and K were twins.”
“No. Mom stole one of us.”
“I’m sure you have a colour-coded binder and a neatly filed daily to-do list or something.”
“I’m a planner, Wezi. Of course, I have daily to-do lists.”
Laughter danced in his eyes. “What’s for tomorrow? Can I help?”
Katenekwa tensed at the arm Wezi draped over her shoulder. His finger traced circles on her arm. Her mind blanked.
“Um. I don’t want to bother you.” She wriggled out of his hold and perched on the sofa. To her relief, he stayed on the floor.
“Nothing you ask of me can ever be a bother. I’d love to help.”
She examined him and, seeing no malice, agreed. “But no funny business. No Weziness.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You know, you. You tend to take things lightly. Which is good outside of work, but this is my whole future. You understand?”
“Don’t worry. I know how much this means to you. Have I ever done anything to make you doubt me?”
Disappearing for two years without a trace sure fit the bill, didn’t it? But that wasn’t what he was asking. When he was around, he was honest. He didn’t promise her anything, didn’t lie to her.
She couldn’t blame him for the heartbreak she’d caused herself by indulging in the fantasy of being his. She’d let herself believe that she meant more to him than she did, and that wasn’t his fault. The things he said, they were just words. She’d heard Kawana say those things to so many girls with the same honesty that she saw in Wezi’s eyes. It was the art of the player. They dealt in betrayed trust and broken hearts, promised the world, and left only tatters. Their sincerity was so disingenuous. She’d been foolish once, but she knew better now. She’d guard her heart.
Wezi would not break her.