Page 26 of Lovetown, USA

Trey snickers. “She’s just as high as we are.”

A giggle escapes me before I can stop it. “That question is to both of y’all.”

Silence fills the gaps between us. Smoke curls in the air. Then, finally, Shayla sighs softly.

“It would make me truly happy if my parents accepted me.”

I turn my head to the right to look at her face. “They don’t support you?

She shrugs. “They’re not overtly rude about it. They’re…” she trails off. “They’re polite . That’s the word. But their politeness is very loud and very cold. It tells me everything they don’t say. And I know I’m too old to give a fuck what my parents think, but—“

“You’re never too old,” I cut in. “They’re your parents. They’re supposed to love you unconditionally.”

Shayla inhales again, then passes back to Trey. When she exhales, her smoke ghosts over my cheek and I take a deep breath.

“My last girlfriend…they invited her to Thanksgiving. That’s cool, right?

But the whole night, you could just tell.

Like when somebody stumbles over a word and everybody pretends not to notice.

And I don’t want that. I don’t wanna be the elephant in the room.

I want my mom to ask my girl how we met and when we fell in love.

I want my daddy to ask what her intentions are,” she says with a laugh.

“Just regular shit, if that makes sense.”

“Makes sense to me,” Trey says.

“Me, too.” Her words sit on my heart like a twenty-pound weight. I turn my head toward her again, studying the faint outline of her profile in the candlelight.

When Trey passes the blunt back, she doesn’t take it at first. Her eyes are still fixed upward, her mind still at her parents’ dining room table. Finally, she accepts it, inhales again, and lets the smoke drift toward the ceiling with a sigh as if she’s letting her angst float away with it.

I swallow, throat dry. Her honesty stirred something in me. Something I need to get out.

“For me, I think…I think getting my career back would make me truly happy. Or maybe not even that. I just wanna forget how bad I fucked up. I wanna…forgive myself and move on to better things.” My chest tightens. “I want the fire I had before. Back when I used to believe in myself.”

Trey shifts beside me, and when he finally speaks, his tone is steady and deep. “I just wanna open up this muhfuckin’ clinic.”

Me and Shayla dissolve into giggles, and I couldn’t even begin to explain why.

“Ayo, I’m serious. You’d think these bitch ass politicians and city folks would see a nigga wantin’ to do good and be like yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

Let’s approve that shit. But nah, I gotta jump through a thousand goddamn hoops just to serve this goddamn community. Shit got me bent. For real.”

Okay, so now I know he code switches heavy during sex and when he’s faded.

When he realizes we’re still laughing, he turns to look at us, his eyes telling the whole tale. That negro is sky high.

“Fuck y’all laughin’ for?”

The three of us break, laughing until we cough and wheeze. The smoke drifts upward again, hazy and grey, carrying the hopes we’ve just spoken out loud, each one hovering like a star we’re almost high enough to touch.

“One more thing,” Trey says, silencing us. “I wanna fall in love.”

Shayla’s eyes meet mine. She smiles at the same time I frown, the words hanging in the air like, well, smoke. Then the bed shifts, and I hear Trey say, “Gotta piss. Where’s the bathroom?”

Shayla points. “Right in there.”

As soon as he’s out of sight, she elbows me, then rolls onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. “He likes you. You know that, right?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

She gives me a look. “Lane. Darling. I saw how he was looking at you. Not just when he was in you. I mean when he was kissing you. And after, when you were laying there. That man would have come running even if I hadn’t been part of the deal.”

I laugh, but it’s shaky and defensive. “You imagined that.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “Are you naive, or are you scared?”

Before I can answer, Trey returns, tugging his shirt back on. “Ladies,” he greets us. “I need to head out. Got shit to do.” He looks at me. “I can run you home if you need a ride.”

I nod and sit up, holding the sheet over myself. “I have work to do, too.”

He pulls his pants on, coughing out some residual smoke. “Shayla, thank you for…” he trails off, grinning. “Thank you for a supreme blunt rotation.”

She laughs. “You got it, chief. Take care of our girl.”

“Always.” His eyes meet mine. “You ready?”

I take my time getting dressed, give Shayla a goodbye hug and kiss, then hop in the car with Trey.

When we pull up to the hotel, he puts the car in park, and I’m brought back to the present, rather than lingering on Shayla’s words like I had been the whole ride over.

He likes you. He has feelings for you.

It’s not that it’s outside of the realm of possibility.

It’s that I didn’t want to deal with feelings.

Not my own and certainly not his. I only wanted to do the part I enjoy—the flirting, nice dates, and sex while I complete my assignment here and get the hell on.

But now? I may have complicated things. Yet again.

“Thanks for the ride,” I say as I turn to him. “And everything else you did tonight.”

His chuckle is low and velvety and holds the mischief of a man who wants to get lucky again. “It was my pleasure,” he says with a grin. “Believe me.”

“Oh, I do.” I lean in and kiss him, sweet and lingering, but we’re interrupted by the buzz of his phone in the console.

He reaches for it, glancing at the screen before silencing it. Whoever it was, they’re important enough to change the mood. His expression tightens briefly before he masks it.

“So. Your next column. How’s that going?”

I shrug. “Fine, I guess. I haven’t gotten any notes, yet, but I’m sure they’re coming.”

“Is it negative again?”

My eyes narrow. “Is that how you see my writing?”

“No.” He shakes his head quickly. “I think you’re an amazing writer. I just think maybe you’re being a little hard on the city.”

I don’t answer right away. I can’t. The thought weighs too heavy on me, as does the fact that it does gives me a nagging feeling. One I don’t like. At all.

Before I can say anything, he leans across the cabin and kisses me again, his hand cupping my cheek. “I’ll be out of town for the next couple of days. Be good. Don’t get in no trouble while I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?”

“Houston. To handle some business.”

“That’s cryptic.”

“Aww, you gonna miss me?”

I smile sweetly. “Of course.”

“Bullshit,” he teases. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll be crying from loneliness.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His smile falters, just for a second, just enough to let me know he’s bothered. But then he leans in for one last kiss, and whatever is on his mind is rendered unimportant, while everything on my mind—namely him and these feelings—swirls wildly, distracting me from focusing on his lips.

I slip out of the car and watch him drive away once I’m inside the glass doors. As soon as he’s out of side, I realize what I said was true, and I know that because it’s only been ten seconds and I miss him already.