Page 10 of Candid Moments
When my body shifts, I hear, “My bad.”
“You good. The alarm next door woke me, not you.”
I pull the cover from my face and see him walking toward the restroom. He’s wearing basketball shorts, kicks, and a sweatshirt. He must have been downstairs working out. Mid stride, he stops then glances back at me.
“You need to come in here before I shower?”
“Actually, I do,” I admit. Since I seem to be officially up for the day, my bladder needs its morning release. I grab my small toiletry bag and rush into the bathroom. After peeing, I quickly wash my face, brush my teeth, and gargle. When I walk out, he’s still standing. “Thanks.”
After nodding, he walks into the bathroom and I head back to my section of the room. I fold the comforter and place it and the pillows back into the closet. Then, I flip the cushions on the sofa. With no real agenda for the day, I walk to the closet and pull out my clothes. When he emerges out of the bathroom, I step back in, shower, and change. He’s sitting on the bed, dressed in an all-black sweatsuit.
Things were nice and casual last night over dinner so the initial awkwardness of being in here with him has worn off but we are still two strangers stuck in a room in this little ass town. Striking up random conversation isn’t as easy as one would think. Surprisingly though, he’s less apprehensive than me.
After I place my pajama set into my travel laundry bag, I walk into our little kitchen. There’s a Keurig machine and a limited selection of coffee and tea. At this point, any caffeine will do, so I grab one of the disposable cups and remove the plastic.
“I’m sure there’s better downstairs,” he says.
“In the lobby?” I question.
“Yes. Breakfast is being served until nine. I walked through there before I came up. There’s a buffet or you can order off the menu.”
“But won’t they be down there?”
I’m in no mood to break bread anywhere near Corey and his bitch. If God is merciful, I won’t have to see him at all for theremainder of the time I’m stuck here. When I say I’m done with his trifling ass, I mean every syllable of my words. We are no longer an us and as far as I’m concerned, he can rot in the bowels of hell for eternity.
“All of the activities for the reunion are in the ballrooms. They won’t be in there. I worked up an appetite and need some protein, so I’m about to head down.”
“Then I’m coming too. I need a good cup of coffee this morning. I need to take my hair down first though. I’ll meet you down there.”
“I’ll wait,” he says, then relaxes onto the bed.
“You don’t have—”
“Jamila, I’ll wait,” his baritone declares.
Denim
There’s no denying it. Jamila is absolutely stunning and her body is unbelievable. Her golden-brown skin is smooth as hell and she’s blessed with curves and a thickness many other women have to purchase. I deserve a medal for exercising as much restraint as I have in keeping my eyes to myself. I mean, I’m looking. I can’t help that shit but I’m not looking nearly as much as I want. However, when she walks out of the bathroom with her hair down and a slight hint of color on her beautiful full lips, I can’t stop staring.
“You ready?” she asks, breaking my trance.
“Yeah,” is all I can manage to get out.
She walks toward the door and I grab my cell and wallet from the small desk and join her. After opening the door, she walks out first and we head to the elevators. The restaurant is off to the right once we get off. We check in with the hostess and are seated immediately at a booth by the huge windows. Before walking off, she takes our drink order—a coffee, two waters, and an apple juice.
“It’s covering half the window,” she comments on the snow, astonished.
“And it’s still failing. They are expecting more inches by nightfall.”
“I need my camera.”
“You can use my phone.”
“No. No, thank you though. My real camera. It’s upstairs in the room. I’ll be right back,” she says then stands.
“I can get it.”
“It’s packed up in my things. I got it. If they bring my coffee, please send it back. I can’t drink it unless it’s piping hot.”
