Page 16 of Desperate Times

He sighed, rubbing slow circles on the back of my hand. “That’s a start,” he replied, kissing my hand.

six

. . .

Crimson

After a few weeks of living with Jah, I started to feel more normal than not. I was thrown off by how easy it was to slip back into a routine with him. But after spending so long missing him, resenting him, then hating him, loving him felt like a relief. It became second nature. The way he loved on Scarlett undoubtedly made it easier to accept him back into my life fully. He’d shown her a kindness and tenderness that not even her father attempted to do. I enjoyed rebuilding our friendship. I wanted more, but didn’t want to open myself up for heartbreak again. Because of that, Jah and I played the hot and cold game for a while.

He’d flirt. I’d flirt back. Then, when he pressed on even harder, that's when I’d pull back. Like the other night, while I was doing laundry. I didn’t have too many clothes left to lounge around in. I threw on some biker shorts and his Fear of God hoodie. The only thing is, I didn’t know he was about to wear it.

“Have you seen my hoodie, Red? I’m about to head out.”

“Which one?” I asked, trotting downstairs to meet him by the sofa.

“The one you’re wearing,” he chortled. “Keep it, it's fine.”

“No, give me a sec. I should have asked first.” I attempted to pull the hoodie off, but it got tangled with the flexi rods in my hair. With one arm half out and the other tight and stuck, I let out a frustrated breath. “Shit, I'm stuck, Jah.”

“And.”

“And if you don’t help me, punk, you're gonna have a bigger problem than needing a hoodie to wear.”

“You sure you want me to help? I don’t want to pull your wig off.”

“Jahhhh!” I whined. “Talk your shit after you help me.” I urged.

Laughing, he finally came to my assistance. With my arms stuck over my head, he helped me out of the hoodie. He had to unravel a few of the flexi rods in the process. It was strange that something so simple stirred up multiple feelings inside of me. The way his hand felt running through my hair, coupled with the way his breath felt on my skin. Then his cologne, my favorite cologne that I told him to only wear for me, tickled my nose. When he finally got the hoodie off, he stared at me, instantly pulling my eyes to his. He adjusted the strands of hair that had come undone due to the flexi rods. His hands brushed my cheek, and I sank into his touch, putting my hand over his.

For a moment, we said nothing to one another. I felt exposed in my sports bra and biker shorts. I felt exposed because fighting my feelings was slowly becoming a thing of the past. I wanted my man back. I always wanted to be near him. I wanted to be vulnerable with him and tell him that, but I couldn’t. Not until I was sure he truly wanted it, too. I tried to find the words to fill our space. Otherwise, I would grab his head and stick my tongue down his mouth.

"Your cologne…” I managed to let out as I cleared my voice. “It’s my favorite." My words dripped with flirtation, and that wasn’t my intention.

“Oh yeah…it is?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. Jah stepped a little closer to me, officially closing the space between us. "It must be a special occasion, then.”

I swallowed hard as his scent wrapped around me. His aura tugged at my heartstrings, and before I knew it, I was leaning in closer to him. I cleared my voice and spoke quietly. “Or you want to be noticed. You only wear it when you’re looking to get attention.”

His eyes dropped to my lips, then back up to my eyes. “It worked. I got your attention, didn’t I?” he added, pulling me into a kiss.

That was it. The first time his lips touched mine in years. His hands tugged at my shorts, pulling me even closer to him. Then he trailed them up to my neck. His fingertips brushed my skin, sending tingling sensations everywhere. His tongue slipped past my lips, and I buckled. He could have me in this very moment if he wanted to. I was desperate for more, kissing him back as I threw my hands around his neck. He wrapped his hands around my waist, cupping my ass. Then, cowardly, I pulled back.

“Jahsir,” I uttered..

“Whenever you ready, Red. And be sure that you’re ready. Because once I get you, I promise I’m not coming up off of you. Word.”

Now, here I sat in the passenger seat of his car, my legs pressed firmly together. With our recent fiasco etched in my mind, I prayed I could control myself. Everything about him seemed to turn me on.

I glanced at him, hoping he didn’t catch me staring. My eyes caressed every muscle, every strand of hair, and tattoo across hisskin. He had more tattoos now. The old ones were now layered, and the new ones seemed to be more telling of where he was spiritually. But one caught my eye. It wasn’t hidden. In fact, it appeared more boldly, not because I couldn’t believe it was there, but because he took care of it.

RED.

My name was still there, making me wonder if I was still his. Many thoughts flooded my mind. Maybe he didn’t have time to get it covered. Maybe he forgot it was there. Maybe it meant nothing to him and wasn’t worth covering up. Maybe… I tore my eyes away from him just in time to see he was setting me up for something I wasn’t quite ready for. Probably never would be.

"Jahsir, no.” I gasped when I saw the familiar corner store that he and I had frequented in the past. “Please tell me we are not going to your mama’s house."

"Yep. She cooked. A nigga gotta eat, Crim. And we both know you’re not passing up a meal,” he added, turning into his neighborhood.

“Jah, please don’t do this to me,” I begged. My nerves were getting the best of me. "I can’t go in there, not with Scarlett. That’s just weird… no. Absolutely not."

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