Page 52 of Not My Type
I send her a message asking if she’s booked out today. Luckily, she says that she’ll only have two clients so I can come by 1o’clock and get my pedicure done. I don’t have much money but I’m willing to do anything to take my mind off my life at this point. Mi nuh wrong yuh.
I’m about to start my morning routine when Nick calls me. I smile before I pick up. “Good morning,” I say with a smile.
20. TENSION
Nickoi
I sit up in my bed, with my half-lidded eyes fixed on her. She smiles — hiding her face in a subtle way. Why do pretty girls do this? Show only half their face on FaceTime, while the ugly ones flaunt everything?
“Why you a smile?” She asks, her voice soft.
“Why you nah show me yuh face?” I get the perfect opportunity to ask. She giggles.
“I’m brushing my teeth,” she tells me.
“So? Me wan’ see everything. Me wan’ see and know the real you,” I say honestly.
My words caught her by surprise. For a second, she’s tongue tied. She smiles. I don’t say anything. Then I see her adjust the camera to herself. Now showing everything uncut. “Like this?” her eyes glint with something indescribable.
“Perfect,” I rasp.
She averts her attention to the mirror, brushing her teeth. I just stare — in admiration. How she one so pretty? Jah j— a knock on my door grabs my attention but not for long. The moment I see it’s the maid that Talia hired, my eyes turn to Zara.
“Amora?” I say without looking.
“Good morning. I’m here with breakfast in bed and the kush, along with Hennessy to get you started,” she tells me.
“Respect,” I retort and she enters, place them in front of me and leaves.
“I called earlier, yuh just wake?” Zara questions. She’s now splashing her face with water.
“Nosah, mi just never hear the phone,” I admit.
“Okay,” she looks down. “You said that you were coming to get me, what are you planning?”
“Surprise,” a smirk forms on my lips.
“Okay then,” she breathes and brings me into her bedroom. She slumps down on her bed. There’s a lot on her mind. Her brows knitting.
“Wah a bother yuh?” I ask, curiously.
“Nothing,” she lies.
Hmm. “You eat yet?” I ask instead, respecting her privacy though I’m eager to know what’s going on with her.
“Mi soon go make something,” she tells me.
“So, me nuh wan’ suhm too?” I ask playfully, even though I have a breakfast burrito and homemade coleslaw.
She’s blushing. “Zara?” I add.
“How would you get it?” her eyes are filled with lust. Ms. Innocent.
“That’s why you fi deh yer wid eh killa,” I flirt. “So things like dat can gwaan yuh zi mi?” She laughs but I’m serious — I want her here with me. Mi rate har like dat.
ZARA
I can’t help smiling. He knows the right words to say and the right way to say them, to make my stomach flutter with butterflies.
