Page 78 of Curvy Girl Summer

Her lips twisted contemplatively. “So, maybe that woman wasn’t his wife.” She sucked in a sharp breath as if she had an epiphany. “That’s probably why he didn’t introduce you to her! That’s why they kept their distance! He was waiting at the door, and she was down the block. She was playing her position! Oh, she’s good.”

“No, no, no.” I waved the speculation off. “That can’t be it. He wouldn’t do that.”

“He’s a man. Men cheat.” She made a face. “I mean, women cheat, too, but men cheat like that”—she jerked her thumb back behind us—“all out in the open with no finesse. Just sloppy.”

“But Ahmad isn’t like that. He’s…” I searched for the right word to describe the man I’d come to know and genuinely like. “He’s not like that.”

“If you say so…”

“He’s a happily married IT guy—”

“Some of the worst offenders are in IT! Have my dating stories taught you nothing? Behind professional athletes, doctors, nurses, call-center employees, truck drivers, military members, andbartenders,the top cheating-ass man is in IT.”

“You’ve named damn near the whole workforce.”

She opened her arms, leaving us both exposed to the almostnonexistent drizzle coming down. “Exactly. Cheating-ass men are everywhere.”

“And what fields are cheating-ass women in?”

“We are in the field of minding our business and not getting caught.”

I laughed. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m just telling it like it is.”

I got home from the concert, and I felt that familiar throb between my thighs reminding me that I hadn’t taken care of myself in a while. It had been a long week, and I just wanted to take a bath, relax, and get myself off before bed.

But as I placed the umbrella next to the coatrack, my mind went to Ahmad. Even after the long, hot bath and the glass of wine, I still couldn’t stop thinking about Ahmad for some reason. Seeing him out of context at the concert really threw me for a loop.

Nina spent an hour and a half trying to convince me that Ahmad would leave his wife for me. After reminding her that I don’t break up happy homes, I explained the content of his character. Even without knowing him long, I knew for a fact he was one of the good ones. For all the shit we talked, I liked him, and I respected him, and I respected his marriage.

After the wine and the bath, I still didn’t feel as relaxed as I wanted to feel. While I moisturized my body, Ahmad briefly crossed my mind again. Even though I knew he wasn’t into me romantically and I knew he was happily married, flashes of how he looked at me, how he spoke to me, how he looked out for me rushed in. While I knew Nina was being extreme, I had to admit that Ahmad and I had chemistry. But we were just friends, and our relationship was just friendship.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Remembering how he looked standing outside that concert venue, I had to admit that I was attracted to him. There was no way I could lie and say I didn’t see the artwork God put in when he created Ahmad. That was just a fact. That wasn’t inappropriate. That was just a fact of the matter—Ahmad looked good as fuck.

My mind drifted to how he always looked good at the bar no matter what was going on, how good he looked at the concert, and how good he looked in general. That was a normal observation. That made sense.

What didn’t make sense was the intensity of the throb between my legs as I thought about Ahmad’s physical appearance.

Yet another reminder that I haven’t been taken care of in a while. Not by me or anyone else.I looked down at my naked body and then over at my nightstand drawer.

No time like the present.

I checked the time.

If it took me half an hour to find porn that I was in the mood to watch and that was going to get me off and then another fifteen to thirty minutes to masturbate, I was looking at an hour. Glancing at the clock, I sighed.

It was one o’clock in the morning.

On one hand, I’m tired and it’s late. On the other hand, I need to de-stress.

And the way I was feeling, the amount of stress and tension I needed to release, it was feeling like I was only going to need fifteen minutes instead of thirty.

I pulled out a vibrating toy as opposed to my dildo because I had business to take care of.

I stretched my naked body across my bed. Closing my eyes, I let my fingertips brush my skin.

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