Page 7 of Lovetown, USA
Then someone slides onto the stool next to me.
“I haven’t seenyouhere before.”
The voice is deep enough to get my attention.
I turn to my right and stare at the man next to me. I know he’s fine as hell, because I haven’t gotten my drink yet and I’m still interested. This negro issoberfine. Cocoa skin, crisp fade, smells good. My eyes flicker to his left hand. Bare ring finger. I guess he hasn’t been here long.
“Do I stand out that much?”
He smiles, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. “I think you stand out wherever you go, but yes. You do.”
The bartender sets my drink in front of me.
“Finally,” I sigh, taking several sips.
The man smiles, then signals the bartender to come back. “I got her. Whatever she wants.” He brings his eyes back to mine. “Long day?”
“The longest.” I set my drink down and turn my body toward him. “And you’re right. This is my first time here. I’m visiting.”
He nods. “How are you liking it so far?”
“I’m not. All of this,” I gesture around me. “It’s a lot. The joy. The love. Therings.”
He holds up his left hand. “Check it out. No ring yet.”
“Yet?” I shake my head. “So, you’ve fallen for the propaganda, huh? How long have you lived here?”
He chuckles. “Moved here two years ago after my divorce.”
“Uh oh. You only have a year left, my friend.” I take a long sip. “So, how does it work? When it’s your time, does your future spouse show up on your doorstep like you Doordashed a wife?”
His deep chuckle rattles me. “Would that be so bad?”
“It would tome.” I take the rest of my drink to the head, then signal for another as the band starts playing a sexy, jazzy rendition of “Best Part” by H.E.R.
“And if you didn’t get married when three years rolls around, what would happen? Would they show up with the sheriff to throw your black ass out?”
His eyes roam my face, then fall slowly to my cleavage, where they linger. “If I say yes, would you save me?”
“Nope. Sorry. We don’t save hoes. Yall don’t wanna be saved.”
He laughs, and I sway back and forth as my muscles relax. The bartender brings me another, which I drink quickly.
“So,” I say. “Why’d your wife leave you? Dick too small?”
The dimple appears again, and so does a little twinkle in his eye. “How ‘bout you come home with me and find out for yourself.”
I feel a little tingle down below, and him staring at me doesn’t help matters. His eyes fall again, but lower this time, sweeping over me in that way men look at you when you’re seated and they’re trying to figure out how nice your ass is.
Before I can speak, Rashid’s face pops into my head. Just two mornings ago, I said I was gonna stop doing this, and I will. Right now. This man is Aaron Pierre That’s Mufasa sexy, but I’m not getting drunk and having sex with him. Not even for research purposes.
The small dance floor begins to fill with couples, but I make my way over there anyway, never one to let the lack of a partner prevent me from doing anything I wanna do.
I close my eyes and dance like nobody’s watching. And with all these happy ass husbands in here, it’s probably true.
3
Trey
