Page 4 of Love You Like That

I nodded, appreciating the honesty in that. No deflection. No fake mystery. “I like your vibe,” I said before I could second guess myself.

His lips twitched. “I like yours too. Been tryna figure you out since that first night.”

“Oh, you really noticed me, huh?”

“Girl, I could draw you from memory,” he said, and the way his voice dropped made my knees feel soft. “Every time you laughed tonight? That shit made me wanna drop the mic.”

I swallowed. “Smooth.”

“Honest.”

I didn’t know what came over me, but I reached out and touched his wrist, fingers grazing the ink on his skin. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t even move. He just let me trace the black lines like I had a right to. “You should text me,” I said softly.

“I gotchu.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to me. I typed my name and number in, added a little heart next to it, then gave it back.

“You gonna write about me for real?” I teased.

Ezra leaned in just a little, close enough that I could smell soap, sweat, and something woodsy I couldn’t place. “Already started,” he said.

And just like that, I knew I was in trouble.

S h es l i di n t oher car like she wasn’t just carved straight out of my next hundred poems.

That soft smile still lingered on her lips as her homegirls teased her loudly with, “Okaayy, bitch!” and “We saw that!” type of shit. She laughed with her head back, mouth wide and carefree. And then she glanced at me once more before the door shut and her taillights faded down the block.

I stood there for a second, then walked back to the lounge with the warm summer air brushing over my skin like her energy was still stuck to it. I hadn’t meant to say half the shit I said, butwhen she looked at me with her chin up and her curiosity wide open, it was like the words just flowed.

Yavanni.

Her name sounded like a song and left my ass standing on the sidewalk like a nigga with something to lose.

“Bro…” I looked up to see Mekai leaning halfway out the lounge door. He raised his eyebrows like a nosy nigga. “You get the number or nah?”

I smirked and held up my phone. “Locked in.”

He whistled. “Damn. Look at you. Lowe out here cuffin’ up.”

“Relax.”

“Nah, I’m proud of you. You ain’t gave a woman that much attention in a grip. She different, huh?”

I didn’t answer, but I didn’t have to. He saw it on me. I could feel it myself with how my chest had been tight ever since she walked away. How her scent was still in the air somehow all sweet and earthy, like coconut oil, incense, and a little bit of Black girl magic. My stomach was still doing laps. My throat was dry, but not from thirst.

I needed to sit down or write something. So, I went back inside, took one more shot, and left before the place got too loud again. I needed quiet to process what just happened.

B a c ka tm yspot, I tossed my keys on the counter and dropped my phone on the table with the screen face up. Her name was sitting there. Yavanni, with a little heart she’d added next to it all bold like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. I sat on the edge of my couch, leaned forward, and rubbed the back of my neck.

She asked about my eye. Nobody ever asked the first night or the second and definitely not the third. Most people stared or pretended they weren’t, then backed off entirely like the truth might bite them. But she just… looked. Then, asked softly and directly like she wasn’t scared of the answer, just interested in the man who had to carry it.

I got up and went to my bedroom and pulled out my notebook from under the bed. I flipped past half-filled pages of poems, loose thoughts, and old grief, and started fresh.

Locs like roots dug deep into knowing.

Laugh like wind chimes after rain.

The dress hugged her like it missed her yesterday.

Said my name like it meant something.

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