Tempie saw her and raced over to her.
Taking her face in her hands, “You look like shit, sweetheart.”
Nola snorted, “Food poisoning. I’ll be fine. What can I do to help?”
As she moved away from me to help, I wrapped an arm around her waist and halted her.
She tilted her head to look up at me as I asked, “You sure you're okay?”
She nodded.
Then I said, “I didn’t invite you yesterday because you told me you already had plans.”
She snorted, “I told you I was off yesterday and was going to see what you wanted to get into.”
And with that, she pulled out of my grasp.
I stood there as I watched her walk over to pick up a broom and a dustpan as she started cleaning up.
Wracking my brain trying to fig... and then it hit me.
Fuck.
She was right.
She did tell me that.
Shit.
An hour later, I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and whispered in her ear as I inhaled that scent of hers that always went straight to my dick, “Forgive me.”
I felt her sigh in my arms, and then she nodded, and in a barely their whisper, she said, “Think I could forgive you for just about anything.”
And that night, in my bed at the clubhouse, I worshipped her body.
And thinking that she still looked tired, so I slept in the chair beside the bed.
She didn’t need me moving around in it, waking her up while she needed to rest.
***
I sat there as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.
The usual of a man pissing his woman off and then she got even.
See, across from Nola’s, there was a strip of houses.
A strip of houses that sat on a long strip of land, and the owner refused to sell to the land developer. I wanted to clap.
And yeah, I wanted to clap for the woman I was watching who had decided not to take the man’s shit anymore while I waited for Nola to come back down the stairs.
She had forgotten something she was taking to the clubhouse for Tempie.
I was going to follow her on my bike.
Did it work out great that the thing she forgot to grab wouldn’t fit in my saddlebags?
Yes.