Page 19 of Continuum

“If you don’t mind…”

With a smirk, I pulled my keys from my bag and sauntered up the stairs. “I don’t mind at all.”

I unlocked the door and the first thing I did was take off my shoes. Fortunately, my toe was still attached.

With my bag in one hand and my heels in the other, I motioned to the living room area with my head. “I’m going to drop this stuff off to my room, but you can have a seat in here and then I’ll give you the tour. Take off your jacket and make yourself comfortable.”

He went to the living room and I climbed the stairs to my bedroom. As soon as I made it to the second floor, I rushed to the bathroom to freshen up. Removing my panties and bra, I shimmied back into my dress.

Technically, if the bar was our first date and the diner was our second date, it could be argued that a walk around the city was our third date,I reasoned as I posed in the mirror.

I didn’t know where the night was going to take me, but I was going to shoot my shot.

Here’s to living in the moment.

“Would you like a glass of wine for the tour?” I asked, as I entered the living room in fluffy slippers.

He turned from the photo on the mantle. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“Follow me.” I walked through the living room through the archway that led to the den. “This is my…sitting room,” I told him as we entered the converted room.

I flipped the light switch, bathing the room in light.

“Wow.” He scanned the room before heading toward the bookshelf. “This is dope.”

“Thank you.” I went to the bar and poured two glasses of the expensive wine I’d gotten as a gift into glasses. “Here you are.”

He turned from the shelves and met me in the middle of the room. “Thank you.”

I pretended not to notice when he glanced down at my hardening nipples. His gaze only caused them to protrude through the fabric more.

“To reuniting with old friends.” I raised my glass to clink with his.

His eyes locked with mine as he brought the glass to his lips.

Oh, to be that glass…

I gave him a tour of the downstairs area and pointed out all the standout features.

“You seem to be doing really well for yourself,” Kwame noted. “Do you live here alone?”

I smirked. “I do. And while I am doing well, I could only afford this because my aunt left it to me in her will. Property downtown is ridiculously priced.”

“Between gentrification and inflation, city property is hard to come by and owning is harder to do,” he grumbled. “Same thing is going on in Chicago.”

We dove into a conversation about the struggle to own and retain property and how it disproportionately affects the Black community. His contribution to the conversation was insightful and intelligent. Seeing him again reminded me of why I was attracted to him, but our conversation reminded me of why I fell for him. When we returned to my sitting room, I poured us a second glass of wine.

“I’m really glad we ran into each other tonight, Aisha,” Kwame said as he followed me to the brown leather couch.

“So am I.” I sat down before I continued. “I didn’t know the last time we saw each other would be the last time. I thought even if I couldn’t get you in for another tutoring session, we would see each other before you graduated.”

He sat down so there was a foot of space between us. “I would’ve liked to see you again.” Pausing to drink, he mentioned, “You’re not on social media.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Oh, you’ve looked for me?”

He let out a deep chuckle, letting his eyes dip to my lips. “Yeah, I’ve looked for you. A couple of times, actually.”

“I’m on social media, but it’s not under my name. I didn’t want potential clients in my business.”

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