Page 22 of Aug
“I know you hurt me. But… It is just deeper than friendship. Now, let’s keep it awkward.”
SZA’s voice continued in my head as the butter and the rest of the ingredients were extracted from my fridge. I whipped my right hand in a circle before setting everything on the counter. I placed two glass plates next to the stove and started the fire.
“Can we still… love on each other? Can we still… touch on each other? Can we still… not judge each other?”
A sense of time and I parted ways as I got lost in the art of cooking. The small speaker on my counter hummed lowly, replacing my attempts at harmonizing.
French toasts.
Turkey bacon.
Turkey sausage.
Cheesy eggs.
Hashbrowns.
The stovetop displayed a beautiful spread that had been arranged in the order the food was prepared. Admiring my masterpiece, I stood a few inches away from the stove with a hand on my hip and my lips curled upward.
“Uh hmm.”
My eyes roamed the space in front of me. There was no sign of August.
Silly.
I turned, finding him near the edge of the counter. His body was fully clothed. His readiness was disheartening. My feelings were displayed through my features. There was no way of hiding them.
My eyes were my tell-all. One could read me like an open book through my orbs. Secrecy wasn’t a privilege of mine. I was open. I was vulnerable. I was sensitive.
“I stayed,” August whispered.
Closing my eyes, I tried pushing down the apprehension building in my chest.
“I know.” My voice was so small, so low that I barely understood a word from my mouth.
“Not only because you wanted me to, but because I wanted to, Ti. But, the sun is up and duty calls, Momma.”
“I cooked.”
“I smelled it all the way from the bedroom. I’m apologizing in advance, but I have to take it to go, baby.”
I grabbed my phone from the counter as August eliminated the distance between us. Rome’s name lingered underneath my fingertips as I typed a brief message. Upon its delivery, gray bubbles appeared. Her immediate response granted me sanity.
“Sit down, August,” I demanded.
“Or–” He toyed, wrapping his arms around me.
“Or nothing. I don’t give ultimatums. Either you will or you won’t.”
“We’re more alike than I thought, then,” he said, planting kisses on the side of my face.
He smelled like vanilla, lavender, and lemon. My bodywash settled well on his skin.
“With me, though– it’s either you will or you will. No ultimatums or other options.”
“Well, I guess I’m adapting your ways this morning. Have a seat. I’m going to fix your plate and you’re going to enjoy it as we get to know a little more than what makes each other climax.”
Chuckling, August backed up. “Yes, ma’am.”
