Jordan curled his lip in disgust. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That means I’ll put your ass out if I have to,” Kwame threatened.
“Do you know who I am? You’re not going to touch me.”
“Try me.”
“Stop it,” I demanded, stepping between them. “That’s enough.”
“This is bullshit and you know it, Aisha,” Jordan grumbled on his way out the door.
“Not that I owe you an explanation, Jordan, but after our date, I ran into Kwame who I went to college with and we had dinner. Then today, I’ve been busy—with Kwame. I never lied to you.”
Jordan gave me a stern look. “Then you have to make a choice. I don’t compete.”
Without hesitation, I answered, “I choose Kwame. I enjoyed your company, but reconnecting with—”
“You chose wrong,” he interrupted, a look of disappointment in his eyes. Without another word, he closed the door firmly behind him.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I’m really, really sorry about that,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t even—”
Before I could open my eyes and finish my sentence, Kwame crashed his mouth into mine. I gasped before wrapping my arms around him. He held me close and deepened the kiss as if he were trying to tell me something and he wanted to make sure I understood. My heart beat wildly as his hands roamed over my back.
When the kiss ended, I waited a second before I let my lashes flutter open. “What?” I whispered as I found him smirking at me.
“You went out with me on the heels of a date with another man,” he teased.
I gazed up at him. “The moment I knew you were back in my life, I didn’t give him another thought.”
His smile grew. “Good.”
“Oh wait! I did think about him once.” He made a face, but I kept going. “You remember that date I told you that the man ate too much and got diarrhea or something?”
His eyes widened. “That was Bathroom Boy?”
I let my head fall back as I laughed. “Not Bathroom Boy!”
Still laughing, we left my place and headed to the hotel Kwame and Eli were staying in.
“Do you have any change?” he asked as we pulled into a metered spot next to the hotel.
“I think so.” I opened my bag and dug around for my wallet. I grabbed four quarters. “You think this is enough?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”
I made a face. “You will not.”
“You’re not paying for anything on our date. I planned this. I didn’t plan this”—he pointed to the meter— “but I planned this day and you aren’t paying for shit.”
I pursed my lips. “Kwame, if I want to pay for something for you, I will.” I leaned closer to him. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
He pressed his forehead against mine and kissed me softly. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do about it?” he uttered.
With just that question, my panties disintegrated.
Well, damn.
“I mean, there’s alwayssomethingthat can be done,” I responded.