Page 21 of Giving Him Something He Can Feel

“I don’t know. Not a decision I planned to make just yet. I don’t see why not.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “You’re a fucking fool, but I hear you.” The room went quiet again, while we both went back to our phones.

“Food. I know I’m supposed to be grieving and dealing with this death shit, but I can’t do it starving.”

I nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go into town to get something to cook. Go get dressed and call Cartier back, while I go do the same and check on my baby. At this point I am a deadbeat.”

She moaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do. He seems cool and the fact that he has called you about a million times says he cares right?”

“About my pussy, that’s about it.” She shrugged.

Laughter escaped my lips. “Well if that’s true, then go ahead and update him on that too. One hour, Jo.”

She laughed and waved me off. “Fine.”

ChapterFour

Jovie-A few weeks later

My grandfather’s funeral was a blur. Shit, for about a month after that that’s how my life felt. I didn’t know if I was coming or going, but I knew I was in pain. This intolerable, mind numbing pain that no matter what I did overtook me every time I tried to keep it moving. By the grace of God and Virtue I was able to get through the projects I had lined up. If not for her I would’ve stayed cooped up in my pop-pop’s house crying with every passing moment. Then to be honest being back in the city felt different, hell I felt different. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was off. Then as if everything wasn’t odd or off enough, Cartier was being too fucking nice. Like really nice and he actually cared about how I was feeling. Long story short after a month one would think I settled back into normalcy, but I hadn’t. My heart was still hurting and I was pushing through life one day at a time.

“You hungry, baby mama?” Cartier walked into his living room with no shirt on and his pajama pants hanging way too comfortably below his waistline. He insisted on calling me baby mama rather than friend or my name.

“Starved. How did you know?”

“Felt it. Get dre?—”

“You know I can go home, right? I feel like I’m crowding your space and sto—” he interrupted my sentence.

“What I tell you ‘bout that? I like you being here, shit makes a nigga actually come home out the streets.” He looked so serious, and I felt so guilty. I couldn’t understand why he wasallowing my grief and trauma to crowd him. Ever since I got into it with half of my family at my grandfather’s funeral he made me stay with him. When I say made, I literally mean forced. Like I said, Cartier had been different, more into me and less into everyone else. I mean that I know of, because the nigga had literally settled into being with me like we were in a relationship, but we weren’t. One thing I did know was that I needed to be going to get on something, because the last thing I needed was to be creating a life out of whatever this is. We were for damn sure not protected at all, fucking, and sucking like consequences didn’t exist.

“Cartier.”

“You want me to say that shit then?” He nearly mugged me before going to the fridge.

“Say what?” I asked thoroughly confused on what he meant.

“I like you being here, man. I’on know what it is but I like that shit.” He turned around and looked at me serious. “Especially because you keep groceries up in this motherfucker.”

I looked at him, not knowing what the hell I was supposed to say, because I liked being here. Thing is I didn’t like uncertainty, and I didn’t want to get too comfortable here. Shit would be no good if this was just a fluke.

I guess I was quiet for too long, because soon he was walking toward me. “I want you here.” That part landed the moment his hands made contact with my flesh.

“For how…” my sentence trailed off because I didn’t want to appear too needy or vulnerable to a nigga… to this nigga.

“Say it. Yeen never held back before, don’t start now.” He challenged.

“I don’t want to blur lines with us.”

Laughter spilled from his lips. The type that came from deep within his stomach. “We already did that, shit a few times. Matter of fact that line don’t even exist no more.”

“And that means.” I guess I’d just settle for getting him to say what I physically couldn’t.”

“Means we’re seeing where this goes. Just me and you.” Then he turned me around and made me look at him. “Just you and I.” this time he said it looking me directly in my eyes.

I was about to respond, but the overwhelming need to puke up my guts overtook my senses. Before I knew it, I was running toward the bathroom.

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