Page 19 of Sour Brew Face

“Uh-huh.” He doesn’t believe me, and frankly, neither do I. “Wait for me? I’ll be done in about an hour?” I nod, then suck in a breath through my teeth.

“I’m here with Amelia.” I throw my thumb in her direction. Langston looks next to me then back to me with a blank expression. When I turn my head, I see that Amelia has abandoned me. And if I dig just under the surface, I can admit that I’m not the least bit offended. I would ditch me too if I had a better offer…with orgasms.

“As it turns out, I’m all yours.” He grins wickedly, sending a shiver down my spine at the promise in his eyes.

“Yes, Mary Opal, you are.”

Langston 16.

Being an adult sucks sometimes. Mo was pretty tired by the time I actually finished at the bar last night. There was a problem with the tap system, and it took me far longer to fix it than I would have liked. My plans for Mo and her body were put on the back burner.

She understood, but I could tell she was as bummed as I was by the unfortunate turn of events. We kissed for so long against the side of her SUV, my lips tingled for hours after and my cock throbbed incessantly until I fucked my fist in the shower to thoughts of Mary Opal on her knees slobbering over my length.

The moment she walked into the bar, any lingering irritation I felt towards her melted away. And when she cupped her pussy, I’d all but forgotten why I was upset in the first place. Just the sight of her turns my brain to mush and my inner caveman takes over. The gentleman in me wants to give her time and myself to adjust to our budding romance, but I think even he is running out of patience and chivalry.

I’m thinking the next time I see her, any flat surface, horizontal or vertical, will do for pushing into her and rutting like a madman. And by the look in her eye and her constant wandering hands, I don’t think she’d be opposed to such plans.

Unfortunately, right now, I have to push my hormones down and any sexually wayward thoughts regarding a certain chemist and have a discussion with my mother.

Mo wasn’t wrong about a few things on the phone the other night. I may not have wanted to hear what she had to say, but maybe I needed to. I’d like some answers and mom is the first stop.

I knock on her door, then let myself in.

“Langston, dear, I’m in the kitchen.” I follow the tantalizing smells to the kitchen and find my mom putting a meatloaf on the table, mashed potatoes next to it, mushrooms, and a Caesar salad.

I drop a kiss to her outstretched cheek and grab drinks from the fridge before taking my seat. “How are you mom?”

She smiles, “I’m good now that my boy is here. I hope you’re hungry.” I nod, eyeing the spread and deciding where to start. After a few bites, I glance up to see mom staring at me with shiny eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here. It warms my heart when I get to feed you.”

“It warms my belly when you do. This is delicious mom, thank you.” I grin then take another bite of meatloaf. We eat exchanging chit chat, telling her about the bar and some funny stuff that’s happened lately, she fills me in on neighborhood gossip, like usual. She does not ask about Mary Opal, and I don’t offer. For some reason I’d rather not examine too closely, I’m reticent to bring her up.

“Mom, I want to ask you about Emerson.” Her fork clangs on the plate as her jaw drops open. Thankfully, she’s already chewed and swallowed her last bite of food.

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“Uh…because he’s my brother. And I’ve been thinking.”

“Don’t think about him, he isn’t worth your time.” She spits out and I’m taken aback by her vehemence.

“Mom! He is your son and my brother.”

“He chose to leave us, just like your good for nothing father. Put them out of your mind, dear, I have.” She reaches over to cup my cheek, then pats it, resuming her meal.

“I can’t let it go, mom. I tried looking Emerson up online, but I couldn’t find him. I was thinking of hiring a private investigator—”

“You will do no such thing!” This time she slams her fork on the table and narrows her eyes at me. “I forbid you. It will only bring you pain.”

“With all due respect mom—”

“I hate that phrase. It usually means you are about to disrespect someone and if I were you, I’d think long and hard if your mother, your only remaining relative, is someone you should disrespect.”

I stare at her speechless. Did she just threaten me?

“Langston.” She says with a heavy sigh, her eyes shiny again with the sheen of tears, she covers my curled fist with her palm. “It hurts. I know you lost your father and your brother, but I lost my husband. He chose another life than the one we were building together. And then I lost my baby boy. I feel the pain of their decisions every day.”

“I know mom. I’m not trying to upset you. But I want to understand, I need to. Can I see the note Emerson left?”

“I threw it away.” I guess that makes sense, it’s been years. Though, I think I would have kept it.

---