Page 16 of It's Love I'm After

However, I never take the time to make the sauce from scratch because I don’t have time, and Bertolli is my BFF. Yet, watching Germayne move around his kitchen, chopping fresh broccoli, pan-searing the salmon, and then expertly making alfredo sauce, has me thinking I’ve been shortchanging my poor son.

“Is it good, Chaniya? Or do I need to add something else to it?”

Between Germayne’s smirk and his finger still hovering near my mouth, I’m struggling to get myself together. My juices are making their way to the seat of my panties, which isn’t something I need right now. Yet, my body is overheating, just experiencing this man making what most, including me, throw together within thirty minutes or less.

“I-it’s good,” I answer, crossing my feet at the ankles, hoping Germayne isn’t aware of my chest rising and falling or my labored breathing.

“Bet. Let me get everything mixed, and we’ll be all set. You can head to the table, and I’ll bring our plates momentarily.” Without preparation, Germayne lifts me from the counter before placing me gently on the floor.

Okay. Okay. You cannot sleep with this man on the first date, Chaniya. You’re trying to remove reckless living from your character. Lock it down. Clink! Clink!

My conscience begins chanting the last two words like a mantra with every step I take to the table Germayne has in his large kitchen. I’m unsure of the time between my arrival at the table and Germaine’s approach with our plates, because I’m unsure how present I am with reality.

“Alright. What would you like to drink? Do you need parmesan cheese?”

“Water, please.”Cooling this heat in my body is imperative, or I will swipe everything off this table and be your dinner, sir.“Oh, parmesan cheese would be great. Thanks.”

“Here you are. Let’s bow our heads for a quick prayer.”

“I like him, but is it too soon? I just ended things with Dedrick. I don’t want to become fodder for gossip.”

“Girl, bye. Dedrick’s been needing his walking papers,” Isis says.

“Okay. Besides that, fuck anybody who can’t be happy for you. Unless they’re gossiping about the shit stains in their underwear, we ain’t got time to entertain bullshit,” Riele adds.

“Riele Parker, I know you better stop moving like that while holding my child.” East’s statement comes through the receiver, causing me to smile.

“You better tell her, brother-in-law,” Isis instigates while snickering.

Riele begins pleading her case with East, causing me to laugh when East doesn’t ease up on how she’s handling their child.

This is the kind of man and father I should have had when I became a mother. Maybe God will give me a do-over so I can get it right the second time.

“Anyway, . . . back to our conversation. Tell me what he looks like, Chaniya. Is he fine enough to make you sit up in your bed while high-fiving God post-sex? Have you been able to see a print or nah?” Riele questions.

“I see you want me to crash out in here. Why are you asking these dumb-ass questions, Riele?” East’s deadpan voice incites Isis’s hysterical laughter.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s this six-week drought we’re suffering through. I need some dick,” Riele whines, and I burst into laughter upon hearing her words.

“Penetration isn’t the only form of sex, bae. You don’t talk about another nigga in retaliation. Matter of fact, hang up and let me get you right,” East says.

*beep, beep, beep*

“Wait, did this bitch hang up without saying anything?” Isis asks the rhetorical question that the beeping in our ear already confirmed.

“What’s worse is my ass is over here rolling my eyes from jealousy. Hell, I want a man to boss up on me like that. Make me throw away the doctor’s postpartum instructions in the diaper genie,” I say.

“Well, we’re gonna send up some prayers now that the Risen Savior will deem you worthy of such a man. I’m only praying for one to fill me with multiple orgasms six out of seven days a week,” Isis states.

*bzz, bzz*

A Kool-Aid grin fills my lips upon seeing Germayne’s name flashing on my screen, interrupting my ability to respond to Isis’s foolishness.

“I gotta go, girl. This man is calling, so maybe God is already working things out for me. Tootles.” Disconnecting the callbefore greeting Germayne, hoping I don’t sound as cheesy as I feel. “Hey, you.”

“Did you get hijacked, kidnapped, or some shit, Chaniya?” My thighs clench subconsciously upon hearing Germayne’s aggressive tone penetrate my ears.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

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