“Are you freaking serious?” Royalty, my best friend, screamed on the phone. “Tre LaSalle was in the store and asked if you, personally, could take a break? What could that mean?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the best when it comes to reading men…there was this vibe between us. I can’t explain it, but his presence was overwhelming.”
“I wish I was there because I would’ve been able to tell you.”
“Don’t I know it.” I shook my head.
Royalty always had men. She’d been proposed to at least three different times, accepted once, and at the last minute decided she preferred her freedom. She already had a son right after college and didn’t want any more, so her biological clock wasn’t ticking.
I, on the other hand, only had four boyfriends in my thirty-three years and had been with my current almost five months. I’d never been boy crazy like my bestie, and never really cared about marriage or children.
“I’m putting you on speaker.” I sat at my favorite place in my apartment, in front of my easel. I sketched whatever thoughts crossed my mind. Art was my glass of wine and I needed to unwind after seeing Tre today.
“You think he remembered you?”
“I am almost certain he didn’t. Why would he? I’ve been crushing on him since I was a freshman, not the other way around. He was a year older than me and in high school years, that’s at least five years older.”
“Yeah, but you shared a kiss at the winter formal. He has to remember that.”
“Earth to Royalty. That was years ago, and Tre had kissed so many girls before me and much more since, if his grown man swag is any indication. And let’s not forget he’s the fucking mayor. There’s no way he could possibly remember me unless I reminded him.”
“You remember it.”
“Duh, it was my first kiss and make-out session.”
“Oh yeah, right.” She paused. “Tell me again why you didn’t have your first kiss until you were sixteen?”
“Everybody can’t be hoes.” I laughed.
We’d been best friends since we were freshman in high school. We remained friends even when she left to attend Howard University while I remained in Louisiana, to be closer to my family. I’m now godmother to her nine-year-old son, Ryder.
“Whatever, I wasn’t a ‘hoe.’ I liked boys and they liked me. You didn’t care about them. Do you know how many dudes you could have had back then if you ever looked up from one of your Octavia Butler or Harry Potter books? I met you at fourteen and with that flawless skin, bad-ass figure, and black wavy hair you forever wear in a ponytail, you always got attention. You were hot then and would be now if you cared remotely about your appearance.”
“I do care about my appearance. I just don’t choose to wear bodycon dresses, stilettos, and full make-up every day.”
Royalty had been riding me about how I dressed since I could remember. I looked down at my army green tank, army painter’s pants, and brown boots. Hey, I was comfortable. Admittedly, my style was eclectic. Although I owned several pairs of heels, I might kick my sexy sundress or maxi dress with boots. I was an artist, dammit.
“Besides, I have a man who likes my style.”
“Wyatt?” She snorted. “You’re settling with him because he’s a nice guy that doesn’t push you to be intimate.”
I dipped my paintbrush in a swirl of brown I’d created. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“He’s boring and a pastor, for God’s sake.”
“Only part time. He’s a successful realtor, Royalty. And there’s nothing wrong with loving the Lord.”
Royalty snickered. “Says the woman who only attends church on Easter Sunday.”
“Me and God have our own relationship. He accepts that I pray wherever I’m at and doesn’t believe I have to step one foot in church to praise him.”
“What everybody says to avoid being guilty for not going to church.” Royalty attended church faithfully and had been trying to get me to join hers for years. It just wasn’t me.
I continued to paint without thought. “You of all people should appreciate that I date Wyatt. I attended his church two weeks ago and I might go again someday.”
“Someday…you’ve been with him for what…five months and you’ve only gone with him once?”
“You know I work on Sundays. And Wyatt hasn’t complained.”
“If he hasn’t, he will soon, he’s a pastor.”
“He knows I’m more spiritual than religious. What do you have against Wyatt anyway?”
“Hey, I’m always down for a brother who attends church, but he’s the squarest person I’ve ever met. His voice even squeaks.”
I rolled my eyes. “Only when he gets excited. Besides, he accepts my celibacy. Something you should be practicing ‘Miss Holy Roller’ on Sunday and ‘Miss Love Them and Leave Them’ the rest of the week.”
“I atone for my sins. What can I say, my flesh is weak? And if you got some, you would understand that very basic human need. I think you even believe the lie you’ve been telling yourself. Celibacy? You’re not even a born-again virgin.”
I muttered, “Whatever, he’s willing to wait.” I’d been embarrassed to tell the men I’ve dated that I was still a virgin.
It was cute when I was twenty-one, but now it’s like I’m venturing into “nun” territory. Except I’m not prudish, Catholic, or particularly religious. I’d never met a man with whom I really wanted to have sex. It really was that simple. So, I told men that I chose to abstain from sex until I felt we were right for each other. The men I’d dated usually gave up around month two. Wyatt hadn’t given up yet, partially because of his own religious beliefs, though I sensed his growing frustration, especially since I avoided discussions of marriage, too.
“Rain, if he hasn’t forced the issue it’s because he’s seeing someone else.”
“But you said he was a nice guy and a man of the cloth,” I protested.
“I meant in general, but he’s a man, and I’ll admit he’s attractive and earns a good living. If you’re not giving it up to him, someone is. Women love men in the church, especially single ones.”
I hopped down off my stool to go to my small kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out the pantry. “Here we go again. Why do you keep saying it’s impossible for a couple to be celibate together? Wyatt and I have lasted this long because he doesn’t pressure me like the other men did. He wants to have sex but he’s using this as a test for himself on whether he can remain celibate.”
“Test or no test. If you were planning to be married soon, then I could believe it. A couple who has been dating for months with no real permanency then yes, it’s impossible. I know you’re not having sex so it must be him.”
“How did it go from me seeing Tre again to my sex life?”
“Lack of sex life.”
“You’re so lucky I like you or I would hang up.”
“Sorry. If you did have sex just once, it would open you up. You’re the most passionate person I know. It’s in the way you dress, dance, and laugh, sometimes too loudly. You can see it in your art and this bohemian lifestyle you inhabit. There’s no perfect man. We’re in our thirties and sex is so much fun. I highly recommend it. Even with boring Wyatt. He might surprise you and really know how to lay that pipe.”
I shook my head. “You are incorrigible.”
“All I’m saying is live a little. We’re not promised tomorrow, and you’ve already wasted years waiting for God knows what.”
I put my bottle down on the cabinet, hating that she was right. “You know I have my reasons.”
She sighed. “I know. But you can’t live in the past. You’ve become too comfortable in being this non-sexual person. How can you be near a man, especially one that you’re attracted to, and spend all this time and not want to sex him?”
“As you just said, I’m very sexual. I’ve done things with men, but not intercourse.”
“I’m sure you’ve given yourself more pleasure than those men you’ve dated.”
I walked back to my easel, blushing at the accuracy of her words, and stepped on my stool. “Can we please talk about something else?”
Royalty giggled. “Sure…like how you would so give it up to Tre in a heartbeat. If you managed to still tell that fine ass man ‘no’ then you must be a lesbian. He has only gotten hotter with age. I can’t believe that man is still single, and he tried to speak to you.”
“I’m not a lesbian, for the last time. You would be the first to know if I was. And if you think he’s so sexy then I’m sure you could get him if you wanted.” My friend was gorgeous with her model frame, hair styles that changed like the wind, and chocolate brown skin like mine. Since she was an estate tax lawyer and because she never left her house without appearing like she should be on a cover of a fashion magazine, she would look good on his arm. Unlike myself, a boho-sometimes-chic artist who’d never finished college and worked at a bookstore for consistent income.
“But you want him, so why would I do that to you?”
“Because I don’t want him, even if I had a remote chance in hell, which I don’t. From what I could tell, he’s still the same arrogant asshole from high school.” Maybe I exaggerated. He was like most popular teenage boys when I knew him, focused on himself and getting girls.
“Then why did you call me as soon as you got a chance to describe in detail what happened today? You’d gone out with Wyatt almost a month before you mentioned anything about him.”
“He’s someone from our past and our new mayor. I thought you might want to know he came in the store today.”
“Bullshit. Admit he made your heart skip a beat when he winked at you and made you hot when he asked if you were taking a break soon.”
I smiled despite myself. “Ugh. I hate men like him.”
“Yeah, they’re annoying, especially when they’re charming and rich, too.”
“And don’t forget looks and smells good.”
“Did he smell as good as he looks on TV? Please say it isn’t so.”
I thought back to his cool citrus scent when he stood near me at the counter and smiled. “Even better.”
“Mhmmm. Maybe he’ll come looking for you again.”
I laughed loudly. “What planet are you on? This man isn’t checking for me. Maybe he only asked about my break because I looked frazzled with all those customers. And even if he was flirting, he probably still loves the women and saw an opportunity. Royalty, that man probably forgot about me the minute he left the store. No, thanks, I don’t want that type of trouble, anyway.”
“I think you protest too much.”
“I’m speaking truth. Bye, girl. I got to get off this phone.”
“Tell me you haven’t drawn him yet.”
“I…” Damn. I’d been sketching his face the entire time we conversed. I captured his sexy eyes and luminous smile.
“I rest my case. Night. Hope you have wet dreams of Tre LaSalle.”