Page 64 of Mine to Worship

“I’ll find you, angel.” The challenge is on, and I shoot up.

“Good luck.” She hangs up, giggling.

“She’s gonna kill me. One of these days it will happen, and when it does, it’s on her,” I mumble to myself and the guys take turns throwing digs at me. Let’s test how relaxed they are.

“You’re right, I am exaggerating. They’re out, drinking. My woman isn’t though. I bet there are a lot of guys there, looking to have fun. Of course, not with my woman, because she knows who she belongs to.”

“I’m driving,” Jason says before flying out of the bar.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Kendrick asks.

“Of course. Misery loves company.”

“Where can they be?” Jason puffs.

“There are dozens of bars here, it will take all night,” Brandon says, while tapping on his phone.

It hits me. “It’s the last one. She likes to fuck with my head,” I say, chuckling and we go to the cars.

When I park, I detect her behind the big window. Her body undulates to the music, and I take my time drinking her in. She is so damn beautiful and mine, and I gulp the rise of the emotions stirring inside of me––resigned to a life of loving her madly.

“What are you doing? Let’s go in,” Brandon says and yanks at the door.

When I step inside the bar, Ellia immediately turns to me and a bright grin appears on her face. We meet in the middle. She tucks a lock behind her ear and lets out a breathless exhale.

“You found me.”

My hands wrap around her waist.

“I told you I would.”

“Yes, but I thought it would take longer.”

She drags me to the bar, and I plop down on the stool with her between my legs.

“I missed you so much. I don’t think that’s normal.”

Her confession shifts that embedded weight on my chest. I detect a pattern; every time I prove to her my words will always be grounded in fact, she opens up to me. At the epiphany, the usual gloom fades.

“Every second without you at my side is a lost one.”

Where did that come from, did a poet possess me?

But her baby blue eyes sparkle with glee, and she bites down a smile, revealing my words hit where they should, her heart.

She tells me how her afternoon went. She talks excitedly, and then her face drops.

“What is it, angel?”

“I’ll tell you at home. Let’s dance.”

“Take it slow,” I remind her and take her hand. But if my angel wants to dance, we’re dancing.

“I will, I promise.”

She does whatever she wants anyway, but at least she gives me the impression she is taking my words into consideration. Smart woman owns me entirely.

We dance and Ellia looks carefree as I sway her around. She tries to suppress a yawn, tiredness catching up with her, but she doesn’t want to end the night. No problem, I don’t care, I’ll do it for her.