Page 17 of Tangled Hearts
He didn’t answer, just let her words hang in the stale air.
She slid closer, her hand landed on his thigh. “Say you love me, Rock. Just say it.”
His throat worked.
He wanted to.
It sat right there, heavy as hell. But his mind replayed her with other dudes, laughing, letting them get close. He knew her loyalty bent easy when she felt ignored. It made him swallow the words back down.
Instead he said, “I care about you more than you know.”
She frowned. “That’s not the same.”
“It’s the truth,” he countered, giving her all he could muster. No one ever taught him how to hold his emotions or even let them out. He was a boy so caught up in manhood that he’d skipped all the valuable lessons on relationships and that Black boy joy people talked about. His soul had been tarnished the moment his first love kept running out on him, so sometimes he did the same. Now, his heart was tangled between two girls that looked at him like he was something good— something special but he kept showing them he wasn’t anything but a boy trying to be a man.
The silence stretched between them. Her mama’s voice drifted from the back room, on the phone with somebody, loud like always. Shakeisha leaned into him anyway, pressing her head against his shoulder.
Rock didn’t move.
“You make me feel like I’m not enough,” she whispered.
“You make me feel like I’m enough,” he admitted. “But you also make me feel like I gotta watch my back.”
She pulled away, hurt in her eyes. “So I’m the wrong one.”
He shook his head. “You not wrong. You just… you.” He dragged a hand down his face. “And I don’t know if I can handle all of you.”
She sniffed and wiped at her face quickly. “One day you gon’ wish you did.”
Rock stood up. His chest felt heavy, but he didn’t show it. “Maybe. But tonight, I just came to check that you was good.”
She followed him to the door, arms wrapped tight around herself. “I been good,” she lied.
He touched her chin, gently lifting it so she had to meet his eyes. “You don’t gotta lie to me.”
Behind him, Shakeisha’s voice came out delicately, almost to herself, “you already mine, Rock. You just too scared to admit it.”
And he was scared. Because part of him knew she was right.
“You don’t gotta lie to me.”
Rock’s thumb lingered under her chin longer than it should’ve. She didn’t move, just looked at him with those eyes that always carried too much history. He let his hand slip, brushing her cheek. For a second it felt like everything he wanted to say sat right there between them. But he let go and walked out.
Her breath hitched.
“Why you always soft with me after you cut me down?” Shakeisha whispered.
“‘Cause you don’t hear me unless I’m soft,” he smiled, that thin gap playing peek-a-boo.
Her lips trembled, still bruised from the fight. He leaned down and kissed them carefully.
She froze, then melted quickly against him. “Rock…” she breathed.
He kissed her again, longer this time, hand sliding into the back of her scarf, rubbing her hair underneath like he used to when they were kids sneaking around. She clutched his shirt in both fists.
“I hate you sometimes,” she muttered against his mouth.
“I know,” he whispered back. He kissed the corner of her eye where it had faded purple. “But you love me more than you hate me.”
