Page 16 of Inadmissible

Tristan

I was surprised when Taj agreed to have dinner with me.

I expected the journey to and through her heart to be long and difficult, but something about her assured me it would be worth it.

Whether it was my intent or not, I claimed her a year ago.

Now that she was back in my life, I had no plans of letting up off Taj Sanders.

From the bits of information I knew about her relationship with Destin, I could understand why she was resistant to a relationship.

Him randomly popping up and triggering her didn’t make it any easier.

If I had to, I’d ban him from the office if that would make things easier for her, but I was hoping I could help her work through the lingering issues she had.

When it came to him and other men in her past, I wanted her to be indifferent and feeling nothing for them at all.

That would mean her heart would have more space for my love.

After ringing her doorbell, I took a step back. The sound of male laughter pierced the door before it was opened, and a man who had features that mirrored my sweetheart’s came into view.

“You must be AK?” he asked with a smirk, causing confusion to fill me.

“AK?” I repeated.

“Tyler, go away. You’re gonna have that man thinking I’m seeing someone else.”

So she acknowledged that she was seeing me? Good to know.

He laughed and extended his hand for me to shake. “I can’t remember your real name.”

“It’s Tristan. But who is AK?”

“You,” Taj answered, opening the door wider so I could see her. “And please don’t ask him why.”

“We’ll talk about it another day. Trust me.”

I chuckled as her brother stepped out of her home. “Aight, bro. I’ma hold you to that.”

The chuckle from her brother’s antics turned into a wide grin at the sight of her.

Dressed in a peach silk, ankle length dress, Taj looked naturally sexy.

Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun on the top of her head, giving me an unobstructed view of her beautiful face.

The freckles, the lips, those honey brown, shiny eyes.

“I want a daughter that looks just like you,” I confessed aloud, though I’d meant to only say it in my head.

“Are those for me?” she asked sweetly, referring to the big ass bouquet of red and pink roses I’d gotten from Mali’s botanic garden.

“They are. You look beautiful, Taj. Damn.”

“This is just a house dress, angel.”

“If this is how you look every day around the house, I can’t wait to wake up and go to sleep next to you.”

“Tristan,” she cooed, blushing and allowing me to see the redness of her nose and cheeks. It looked like she’d just gotten out the shower. I would have assumed she was crying if her eyes weren’t so clear. Plus, her and her brother were in good spirits, so that couldn’t have been it.

“Let me admire you,” I insisted, pulling her hand down from her face when she tried to cover it. “God. You know you’re beautiful.”

“Tris—”

“You’re my crown. Let me make you shine. I can’t wait to take you out so I can show you off.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, holding the bouquet up and over her face. It was so big I couldn’t see her behind it, making me laugh. “Just get in here, sir.”

“Oh wait. Is it okay that I brought a few people with me?” I asked, motioning for the private chef I hired and her assistant to get out of the car.

Taj lowered the flowers and peeked around me.

“Service is my love language, so I wanted to serve you as thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight. I don’t know your hobbies and interests, likes and dislikes, so I was hoping we could talk about that tonight so I can plan a proper date. ”

Her shoulders hiked as she smiled. “Yes, that sounds good.”

“Perfect. They have everything they need, and your kitchen will be clean when they are done.”

I introduced Taj to Mikayla and Lake before she led them to her kitchen.

She told me to look around while she separated the flowers and put them in several vases.

Her home was small and cozy yet very warm and comforting.

I didn’t know a lot about her, but I could tell it fit her style.

The furniture in the living and dining room was light, and there were large planters all over the place.

We went upstairs to what she called her chill room that had a lavender and light sage green color scheme with built in bookshelves, a loveseat with several pillows, and a vinyl record player that I immediately made my way over to.

“What kind of music do you like?” she asked as I went through her vinyl collection.

“I listen to all music depending on what I’m doing, but my favorite music to listen to daily is classical and jazz.

If I’m driving or working out, I listen to hip hop.

If I’m cooking or cleaning, old school soul and R&B.

Gospel and country music are my preference when I want to listen to something that will resonate with me. What about you?”

“I’m kind of the same. I prefer the ’70s and ’80s soul and R&B over anything. My current favorite artists are Jhene Aiko and Cleo Sol though. Oh, and Kendrick Lamar and Nipsey Hussle.”

“I just fell in love a little more,” I disclosed, and while she chuckled, I was serious. “This collection is impressive, sweetheart. How did you get the Hey Arnold vinyl? Every time I try, it’s sold out.”

Impressed didn’t feel like a good word to describe how I felt. She had the classics like Al Green and Marvin Gaye, then Kendrick and Jhene, but also nostalgic soundtracks like Shrek , Hey Arnold , and Euphoria .

“Stalking the website. You can have it. It’s more your speed than mine. I just wanted it because it was Hey Arnold .”

I whipped around in her direction, clutching the vinyl to my chest. “Nah, you have to keep this.”

“Mm mm.” Her smile was warm as she got comfortable on the loveseat. “I want you to have it.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Thank you,” I muttered, looking at the jazz vinyl I’d been coveting since Enjoy the Ride initially released it. They had a more basic version at other retailers, but I wanted one from Enjoy the Ride because of how creative the designs were. “I’ma eat your pussy until you pass out tonight.”

She released a loud cackle. I set the record down and made my way next to her on the loveseat. When she smiled, I couldn’t stop myself from taking her hand into mine.

“Thank you for allowing me to share your space. To be in your presence. I don’t know everything about you and your past, but I know enough to understand how much this night means,” I admitted.

“I won’t lie and say this isn’t hard, but it’s me making it hard. You make it easy to be around you.”

“You wanna share why? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know who hurt you and what you learned.”

“Why, so you’ll know what you can get away with?”

Chuckling, I shook my head and palmed her thigh. “No. So I’ll know what men in the past have done that you might try to punish me for.”

Her expression saddened briefly as her head shook. “And I don’t wanna do that. Like at all.”

“I won’t let you, but I have to know what I’m facing, sweetheart.”

She released a shaky breath and nodded. Taj pulled one of the pillows up to her chest—a classic defense mechanism that was supposed to keep me from seeing and getting into her heart.

“First man to hurt me was my dad. It wasn’t direct hurt.

He cheated on my mom their entire marriage.

When I was old enough to realize what was going on, it changed things between us.

It also made me believe cheating was something I had to expect.

Even if it hurt, a part of me believed it was normal because it was their normal.

Destin was the last man to hurt me, and you know how that played out.

I found out the night before our wedding that he was with her and that she was pregnant.

Since then, I haven’t been with anyone else because I don’t want to be hurt again.

I used to be such a lover girl, and I feel like I let men ruin me. ”

She wiped a single tear away quickly. As much as I wanted to pull her into my arms and console her, I refrained.

“You’re not ruined. You’re hiding, but I will bring the old you back out. Now . . . What did you learn?”

Taj thought about it for a while, head lowered as she detached by swirling the pads of her fingers together.

“I learned that I was trying to earn love when it should have been freely given. That I made men feel like I was willing to tolerate whatever if they treated me well. Most of all, I learned I was trying to be a safe space for men who were mentally, emotionally, and romantically violent toward me.”

“Will you ever do it again?”

Her eyes locked with mine. “Never. At least, I hope not.”

“I know you won’t.”

“How so?”

“Now that you’ve learned your lessons, your body and intuition will reject anyone that makes you feel unsafe again.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” she said with a soft voice and smile.

“I do. I got enough for the both of us until you trust yourself again.”

We talked about that a little longer. I told her about my one time cheating and being cheated on, and how I hoped neither happened again. I made it clear to her that she was safe with me and that I’d never cheat on her, but I understood that was something she’d have to believe for herself.

“You said service is your love language?” she asked as she started her Al Green vinyl.

“It is.”

“What do you love as far as the senses? And what’s a way you feel loved that’s not on that small ass list?”

“Hmm . . .” I pulled her onto my lap instead of allowing her to sit next to me.

When she snuggled against me, I inhaled her perfume.

Tonight, it was sweet and sugary. “Mm,” I moaned, running my nose against her neck.

“I know you probably expect me to say my eyes because men are visual but actually scent. I love when a woman smells good.”