Page 30 of Impacted by Love

"Oh, then my timing is perfect. Ma made a boatload of food and told me to call you to come eat."

"What's all over there?" I ask, dropping my messenger bag before turning around and exiting the front door because it really doesn't matter since Mama Layton can throw down in the kitchen.

"Like it matters. Get over here," Mama Layton's voice rings out in the background, letting me know Uriah has me on speaker.

"On my way, Mama." Disconnecting the call, I put a little pep in my step when rumblings begin in my stomach.

Once my door is secure, I deposit my keys in my pocket before shifting left to right and jogging off the porch. Moving past the driver's side of my SUV, I leave the property line for my house and head toward my destination. Mama and Pop Layton live at the end of the cul-de-sac where my home is, so it takes me about five minutes to reach their back door. Lucking up on a property for sale on their street had been nothing short of divine intervention. Being the incredible people that they are, I often forget the close proximity of Mama and Pop Layton because they never invade my space.

"Whew. The Lord is kind," I declare as the aroma of varying dishes pierces my nose.

"Mhm. Give me a hug before you let the food get you in trouble," Mama Layton insists, extending her arms for me to walk into her embrace.

The minute Mama Layton's arms lock around my waist, a tranquil feeling flows through my extremities from experiencing the affection this woman selflessly gives me.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think your big ass is trying to push up on my woman," Pop Layton interjects a second after I step out of Mama Layton's arms.

"I don't want no smoke with you, old man," I joke before giving Pop Layton a one-arm hug.

"Trust, I know. I ain't gonna ever be so old where I can't knock a nigga on his ass about what belongs to me," Pop Layton says.

"You better stop all that cussing before I call Pastor Reese," Mama Layton warns.

"Tuh. Imagine me fearing Lorenzo, woman. The only man who can make me shake in my boots is the creator of Heaven and Earth," Pop Layton adds.

"Don't start, y'all. I'm hungry," Uriah chimes in, entering the kitchen while rubbing his stomach.

"You were on my mind today, Asaiah. I made you some oxtails," Mama Layton informs.

My chest expands, and merriment dances within the contour of my face from the knowledge of the meat Mama Layton makes especially for me.

Thank you for family, God. Even though we're not blood-related, it doesn't get any more real than these people.

* * *

"Oh wow, I haven't been bowling in years. This is gonna be fun," Onesti says, smiling when I pull into the parking lot for the bowling alley.

After our last encounter, I came to two conclusions… I didn't want to run from pursuing Onesti, and future dates had to be out of our homes. The battle to not allow my hands to run freely over Onesti's body had been a test, and I'm positive I'll fail if placed in that position again.

"Indeed. Hold tight," I say after parking and exiting to assist Onesti out of the vehicle.

My adrenaline is running wild, and my body is teeming with energy I'm struggling to contain when I open the passenger door.

You got this, man. This is just a date with the woman you're feeling and trying to capture more time with. Breathe, Asaiah.

Unable to help myself, I lean in the car and place a light peck on Onesti's lips, causing my dick to twitch in my jeans.

You're playing with fire, dude.

"Mm," Onesti softly moans.

Disconnecting my lips from hers, I back up to allow Onesti room to get out and me a minute to calm myself before this date goes left. When Onesti exits the vehicle, my eyes roam her body, and Ludacris featuring Nicki Minaj echoes in my mind, causing me to fight the urge to bob my head.

Man, bye. First off, she ain't your chick, so stop flexing, not to mention the suburban neighborhood you picked her up from, contradicting the hood persona Ludacris was rapping about.

Ignoring the statement echoing in my mind, I mentally photograph Onesti, storing her image for a future date. The dark denim jeans are hugging Onesti's slim-thick thighs, making me wonder if the manufacturer hand-stitched them specifically for Onesti. The white blouse on her top half has the first two buttons undone, making my mouth water at the peek-a-boo game I want to play with her breasts, not to mention the nude heels resting on her feet that make her plump derriere sit up high on her backside.

"Since when did those fit into the casual parameters I set for this evening?" I ask, raising my left brow while smirking.

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