Page 12 of It's Love I'm After

“What would you like to know?”

“Why the lame you’re dating didn’t accompany you to this store at this time of night, for starters?” The gravely yet aggravated tone in Germayne’s question hit me in my lower region like a wrecking ball in the process of demolishing a house.

With Dedrick, my pussy was dryer than the Sahara when he tried to put bass in his tone while speaking to me. Yet, Germayne makes me want to cross a line I shouldn’t be considering, given our current predicament.

“We’re not together anymore.” I shrug.

“Mhm. The third time is definitely a charm, and now I understand why I’m in this store after waking up craving ice cream like a pregnant chick.”

Giggles escape my mouth before I remember where we are, and I quickly slap my hand over my mouth to stifle my humor.

“I kid you not. I was in a deep sleep and comfortable under my blankets, but the craving wouldn’t release its hold on me. Now I know Cupid won the fight with the sandman. Big ups to my miniature compadre Cupid.”

More giggles sound from behind my hand at the outlandish statements coming from Germayne’s mouth.

“You’re a mess,” I whisper.

“Nah, I’m right where I’m supposed to be. What’s your favorite color?”

“Random much,” I say.

“Nah. We’re getting acquainted. You thought I was joking?”

Butterflies take flight in my stomach at the serious tone in Germayne’s delivery, and a small smile forms.

“Yellow,” I answer.

The sound of heavy footfalls approaching prevents us from speaking, and my heart starts racing as I cling to Germayne’s shirt for dear life.

“I feel your heart pounding against me. Don’t worry. Not a single hair will be out of place when you leave here. I’ll gladly sacrifice myself for you. Get behind me,” Germayne states before gently easing me from his lap so I can do what he’s instructing.

There’s roughly a minute between my scooting behind Germayne’s back and the door being forcefully pushed open.

“Shit!” a pale-faced middle-aged man shouts after flipping the switch on and seeing Germayne in a fighting stance. “I thought all the customers fled the store.” Lifting the walkie-talkie in his chubby hand, the man speaks into the device. “Uh, there’s two customers in the employee lounge. Let the officers know. I’ll send them your way.”

“Roger that, Clive,” someone returns.

“Alright, folks. The store has been cleared, but you’ll need to speak to the police before you’re free to leave. They’ll meet you up front. Sorry for the inconvenience,” the man says, holding the door open.

“Come on. We’ve had enough excitement for one morning,” Germayne tells me, extending his hand for me to take.

“This might be unethical or out of line, but can I have your phone number, Germayne? I’d like to talk to you once I get situated. We have shared something traumatic, or at least it wasfor me, and I would like to hear your voice before I fall asleep,” I ask.

6

GERMAYNE

“After all that excitement, I’m glad I don’t have to work today. I think I’m gonna hide in my house watching mindless TV. That was the most adventure I’ve had in a very long time.”

“I hear you, and thankfully, I don’t go in until this evening, so hopefully, I’ll be able to sleep it all off,” I say.

While the robber at the store was an unplanned nuisance, I’m not mad because I was victorious in shattering Chaniya’s wall of reservation about me. After an hour of recounting the events with RPD, Chaniya and I were cleared to go home. Now, here we are forty-five minutes later, conversing on the phone. The goofy smile on my lips is only one of the indicators of how I’m feeling about my current situation.

“Tell me something that’ll get my mind off what we encountered.”

“I got you. So, you know what I do for a living, and I love it, but I can live without patients whose bowels release during labor,” I say, shaking my head.

“Stop, that doesn’t happen.” Chaniya laughs, and the sound has warmth dancing across my chest.

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