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Ace

“Why did you make me come to this?” I grumble, shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants.

Kamryn rolls her eyes as she adjusts the canvas tote on her shoulder. It’s already half-filled with overpriced heirloom tomatoes, a loaf of fresh sourdough, lettuce, and some bougie cheese she spent way too long debating over.

“Because you need sunlight,” she says, tossing her braids over her shoulder. “And human interaction outside of that damn construction site. Plus, it’s good to support local black businesses.”

“Kam, you live in Suwanee,” I point out.

“And yet, I still have better community engagement in Decatur than you do.” She smirks, then stops in her tracks. “Oh, shit. Gluten free brownies!”

Amused by her excitement, I watch my big sister amble off. When she found out the farmer’s market down the street from my condo was black-owned, it was all she wrote. She didn’t even ask, just told me I was bringing her.

“You want a box?” she shouts from across the aisle.

But I barely hear her. Somebody else has my attention.

Raya.

She’s standing at a booth a few feet away, trailing her fingers across a display of handmade candles. Her nails are painted blood red, and the simple motion is oddly hypnotic, the way she grazes each wick with her fingertips before moving on to the next. I swallow hard as I notice how she’s dressed.

Tight jeans cling to every dip and curve of her lower body. They mold to her ass, round and full, sitting like an upside-down heart. Fitted black top that’s just low enough to tease at cleavage, but not quite give it away.

Fine as hell.

Why the fuck didn’t I call this chick?

I’m kicking myself. I could have been inside that already.

I start walking before my brain even gives me the command. Kamryn is still in the same spot, but I’ve forgotten all about her.

“Are you stalking me?” I joke, stopping just behind Raya.

She whirls around so fast, I take a step back.

I expected her to smile, flirt, roll her eyes, and maybe throw a slick comment about me forgetting to call her. Instead, she stares blankly, and I feel like a stranger who just interrupted her day.

My stomach tightens. I feel stupid as hell. Fine as she is, she probably has hella niggas sweating her. She probably doesn’t even remember me.

“Ace, right?” she finally says.

“Yeah. We met at Cafe DeMarco.”

Her face tightens. “Weren’t you supposed to call me a few days ago?”

I run a hand over my jaw, feeling the weight of my own mistake. “Yeah, my bad. I got busy with work shit.”

Her lips part, then close. A slow blink follows.

“Work shit,” she repeats, like she’s rolling the words around in her mouth, tasting the excuse before spitting it back out. “What’s the nature of this work shit? ”

Hearing it said back to me like that drives home how weak it sounds.

“I’m on a major project. We’re building a sustainable bridge.”

She stares, and it’s unreadable.

“It’s a big deal,” I add.

She exhales slowly, her head tilting. “So you didn’t call me because you’re building a bridge. Interesting.”

“A lot goes into it.” I try not to sound defensive.

“I’m sure. Tell me, does that bridge lead to my pussy?”

I nearly choke.

A jolt of heat moves through my body, landing in my boxers. Swallowing hard, I shift my weight from one foot to the other. She stays cool, though, her eyebrows raising slightly as she waits for my answer. I try not to keep her waiting too long, but, damn. She caught me off guard.

“Obviously, not,” I finally say.

“How sad for you,” she says, poking out her bottom lip.

My mouth waters.

“Anyway,” she says, “it was nice meeting you.”

I know I should do something, maybe call her bluff or say something slick, but my brain is lagging, too busy replaying those words and how her mouth looked when she said them.

She turns, and I grab her arm, feeling my chance slipping away.

“Wait. Okay, I don’t really have an excuse.”

Her eyes shift down to my hand on her arm. Something flickers in her expression, but I can’t place it. Whatever it is, it’s dark.

For a second, she stares, and I think she wants me to let her go. But I can’t. Her boldness has me hooked.

“I’m gonna call you,” I say. “Tonight.”

She snatches her arm away. “Unfortunately for you, your word means exactly nothing at this point.”

Her words cause a sharp sting of regret.

“Damn, girl. You on my neck right now. But, you’re right,” I admit. “What do I need to do?”

Her eyes narrow as she studies my face. It feels like she’s weighing something, trying to decide if I’m worth the energy.

“Plan the date,” she says. “Right now.”

“I don’t know what you like.”

Her expression doesn’t change.

I don’t even know shorty yet, but somehow I already know what that look means.

I exhale and rush out, “Velvet Lounge.”

“I don’t like lounges.”

“La Belle Vie?”

Finally, she smiles, and I let out a breath. I was actually scared for a minute. I felt like I had something to lose, which is weird, because, again, I don’t know this girl.

“Alright, cool,” I say. “Saturday.”

“Tomorrow,” she corrects. “Remember, I don’t like my time wasted.”

“Well, shit. What time? Apparently, we’re on your schedule.”

She laughs, and fuck, it’s sexy. Low and throaty, like she has a secret she wants to share, but only after she makes me beg.

“Seven works for me,” she says. “I’ll meet you there. You can’t pick me up yet. You might be crazy.”

“That works for me,” I say. “Not that it matters, apparently.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and my dick twitches so hard, I have to shift my stance.

“It’ll all be worth it,” she purrs, dragging a finger lightly down my jaw. “I promise you that.”

I can’t speak. Shit, I can’t even move. I just nod and watch her walk away, switching them hips like the motherfucking rent is due. I stay frozen in that spot long enough for Kam to reappear at my side with her receipt in hand.

“Who was that?”

None of your goddamn business is what I wanna say, but Kamryn is like a bloodhound. It’s way worse when I try to hide shit from her. Only two years older than me and acts like she’s my mama.

“Chick I just met,” I say. “I’m taking her out tomorrow.”

Kamryn’s eyes follow Raya’s retreating figure, her lips twisting in obvious disapproval.

“I don’t know about that one.”

“You didn’t even meet her.”

“She’s too pretty.”

I frown at that. “Shiddddd…ain’t no such thing, Kam.”

She shakes her head like a disappointed parent. “You’ve never met a woman that’s just, like, too good to be true?”

“She’s not, though. She’s actually kinda weird.”

“Then why are you going out with her?”

I grin. “It’s a good kinda weird.”

“Whatever. You ready?”

I follow my sister out of the store, my eyes glancing in the direction Raya just disappeared in.

Something about her lingers in my mind, poking at the edges, telling me something I don’t understand yet.

It’s probably just lust.

I tell myself that, but my gut says otherwise.