Page 86 of Safety Net
We watched the rest of the movie before I reached up to pull my braids out of their bands and consider twisting my hair up for the night.
"It's late." I looked at my phone. "I should probably head out soon."
"Stay?" he asked, a simple tug at my heart. "I can't stand the idea of you leaving."
I considered how easy it would be to remain by his side. Because I know as soon as I stepped away, I'd count down the seconds until I heard his voice again.
"I have a meeting with my mentor tomorrow. I need to get an early start. Plus, I have a whole nightly routine." I swallowed a sigh, trying to stave off internal protests. Being the voice of reason after a night like this was torture. "Starting with my hairand ending with meditation. I need to make myself as ready as I can be for tomorrow."
"I could help," he offered. "You'd have plenty of time to do whatever you'd need right next to me, and you're already in bed, so wouldn't it be easier to start getting ready for bed here? Driving would just wake you up. And relocating to a bed warmer and more attractive than this one…well, let's be honest, it's impossible."
"You're very tempting."
"I'm willing to be even more tempting," he murmured before kissing me.
"You're making this very difficult."
"I'm sorry," he said before kissing me again. "If you really have to go, I'll walk you out to the car. I'll drive you home myself if you need. And pick you up tomorrow to take you to campus. But if you stay, I could help you wind down. Ensure you're well-prepared for your meeting. You'd be so relaxed with me, Celeste, I promise."
I sighed into another kiss. "You drive a hard bargain."
"Mmhm?" he hummed between kisses.
"But I don't know if…I mean…look at my hair."
"It's perfection," he said. "And?"
I snorted. "I need to twist it up for the night. I need my products for that."
"I could do that."
"Twisting?" I asked. "Or products?"
"Both."
I pulled back a bit to get a good look at him. "You're going to twist my hair?"
"Celeste." He gave me a look. "You know I'm very gifted with my hands."
I snorted. "That so?"
He sat up to meet my challenge. "I'll show you."
I squinted at him. "Fine. Let's do it. Trial run."
"One sec." Lincoln climbed out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back a few seconds late with a spray bottle, oil, and a green hair product. I eyed the products, poking my bottom lip out in approval.
"This is some grandma's kitchen stuff." I leaned in to smell the grease. "Literally. I remember her putting this on my head after she'd fried my edges with a hot comb."
"My grandma thought it wise to teach me how to take care of my hair when I started growing it out during the summer," he said. "She said I'd probably have a daughter one day, and she couldn't stand when she could tell when Black girl had depended on her father to do her hair…Also, I think she just wanted someone to do her hair for free."
"Valid." I sat up taller so he had easier access.
"How many?" he asked as he picked up the spray bottle.
"How many do you have in you?"
He chuckled. "As many as you need."
