Page 10 of Ex- Factor
Maybe I couldn’t give that part of myself to anybody else because I was saving it.
Not consciously.
But in some deep, dormant part of me, I was waiting.
Waiting for the woman I kept seeing everywhere.
Waiting for her to finally see me back.
And now that she had—I was all in.
Logic be damned.
Looking up from my thoughts, my eyes landed on Eshe. She was at the stove, peeking into one of her pots. I was leaning against the counter, watching her.
“Tell me again why we’re not just going to Buya?” I asked, teasing.
“Ain’t nobody going downtown St. Pete to pay thirty dollars for ramen. The gentrifiers have taken over,” she said, cracking an egg with one hand.
“Touché,” I murmured, watching the yolk fall into the broth she’d been stirring.
She looked so damn good in my hoodie with the sleeves rolled up.
She was that domestic kind of fine that made a man want to cancel plans and claim space.
She turned around and stared at me, and I couldn’t help myself.
Stepping closer, I crowded her space.
“You are so fucking beautiful, inside and out,” I said, dragging my fingers down her cheek.
Her breath hitched.
“He was out of his mind to let you go.” I leaned in, brushing my mouth against her jaw.
“But his mistake? That shit’s a blessing for me.” I pulled back.
She just looked at me.
Her eyes did that thing they always did—searching mine, searching my face like she was trying to figure out if I was full of shit or something else.
I held her gaze, waiting.
“You’re doing too much right now. Too soon,” she finally said—but she didn’t mean it.
Her words were breathy, shaky.
I’d fucked with enough women to know when one was turned on.
She tried to pull away.
I caught her wrist gently.
“Let me kiss you again.”
“Silas…”
“Just one kiss,” I said, brushing her blow-dried hair over her shoulder.
