Page 39 of Hooked on Loving Him

“Let me find out your ass is an undercover preacher,” Kayshon says.

My limbs loosen as laughter shoots from my belly, and a low chuckle sounds from the receiver.

“Not hardly. God knows I ain’t done sinning and fornicating for that huge responsibility. However, my godfather is the pastor ofPursuing His Glory Ministries, so I at least know how to get a prayer through on your behalf.”

“Hold up. Pastor Reese is your godfather?”

“Mhm.”

“Wow. This shit is crazy. Are you sure you ain’t a preacher, Shari?” Kayshon’s shaky voice has me cracking up because he sounds like I told him the end of the world is tomorrow or something else major.

“No, crazy man.”

“Masani’s ass plays too much,” he says, grumbling as my brows hike.

“Uh. What does Masani have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, man. Aye, can I still come over?”

A wide smile upturns my lips because sleeping in his arms has my heart skipping beats after not being around him or anything else in the last two weeks.

“Mhm.”

“Good. I need to lay on your titties and shit so I can get some sleep. You’ve been taking me through it, Shari.”

“Me? You did this. I?—”

“Know good and damn well you went too far storming out of my crib, giving me your ass to kiss.”

“Whatever,” I say, smiling as the urge to pump my fist increases with the knowledge of being in his presence.

“I’m on my way, Shari.”

“See you soon.”

Kayshon disconnects the call, and for a minute, I lie still, my heart beating wildly and my pulse racing. A thought hits me instantly, changing my jovial feeling as a churn begins in my stomach. My limbs tingle as a cold sensation surges through my body at a quick rate.

“Okay, God. As Kayshon makes his way to me, I ask that you allow him to find peace in my presence and in my bed. I ask that You block every nightmare so that he can sleep easily. I also ask that You remove the scars and stains of his father’s actions. God, allow Kayshon to place his burdens at Your feet in whatever capacity that is comfortable for him. If Kayshon is the man You will for my life, allow Romans eight verse twenty-eight to come alive within the fabric of what we’re building. God, thank You in advance, because I know nothing is too big or hard for you. In Jesus name… Amen.”

Papa Ren would be so proud because teaching me how to pray was the first thing he taught me at a young age.

Several weeks later…

“Girl,I saw how that man was looking at you today. Don’t you think it's time to go to HR on his ass? I mean—oh, excuse me. How can I help you, sir?” the woman at the front desk of Ashari’s job says to her before seeing me walking up behind Ashari.

Overhearing their one-sided conversation, my blood runs hot as Ashari slowly turns to face me. Ashari quickly diverts her gaze as if trying to avoid making eye contact, further increasing my souring mood. During our conversation last night, I got Ashari to agree to my taking her to work today so we could spend time together. Ashari said she doesn’t generally work on Saturdays, but something unexpected came up, so she had to. Now thatwe’re moving past the hiccup that set us back, I realize I need to be more mindful about giving Ashari reasons not to let me go so effortlessly.

I had also re-scheduled my consultation because Ashari wanted to be in attendance. The new appointment is this week, and uncertainty has been trying to overtake my thoughts because I’m unsure how it's going to go. I also haven’t made a concrete decision, which has me out of sorts. Before Ashari, I knew there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I would have kids. Now, I’m torn about whether I should proceed with the procedure.

I thought I would be good with loving and spoiling any kids that Kyce and Jawaan had, but now I don’t know. I also haven’t been able to see Letitia as she’s had a family emergency that has caused her to cancel appointments. Thankfully, she’ll be back this upcoming week, but not until after the consultation, so it could either be good or bad.

“Whose death am I causing before we vacate these premises?” I ask, hiking my brow as Ashari’s breath hitches and her eyes damn near bulge out of their sockets.

“N-nobody,” Ashari says as the woman behind her rolls her eyes, and my jaw clenches before I respond.

“Are you protecting the mothafucka, Ashari?”

“Oh great, I caught you. I need you to come to my office, Ashari,” some pasty man says, rushing toward Ashari, whose face falls slightly before returning to normal.

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