Page 56 of Not My Type
Him really is a top man enuh, I say to myself. What does that make me though?
A top gyal! A you Shaneil sing bout girl! the queen in my head exclaims.
Period Pooh
“I just got these short nails and my pedicures done,” I stretch my legs, wiggling my toes.
His stare is so sexy. “What?” I question, my voice sweet as sugarcane.
“Dem look bed-head-able,” he strokes his beard and I laugh. He laughs too.
“Come again?” I’m stunned.
“Me a say, dem look nice fi put pan mi headboard,” his voice now chilly, eyes darker than usual. My stomach tightens. I look away, smiling uncontrollably at his words. Then I meet his lustful stare again.
“Okay,” my gaze drops to my toes, and I gently brush my cheek, tapping my pinky finger to my lips trying to hide that I’m blushing.
“When you a go make me rest dem on mine?” his voice lowers as he adds clarity. “Pon my bed head?”
“Niiickkk,” I whine. He bites his lip and rocks his legs with his eyes closed. I take the time out to scan his fit. Nautica hoodie, denim jeans like mine—I promise it wasn’t planned. My eyes fall to his feet to see if he’s wearing Clarks but the purple neon lights on the floor distracts me.
The lighting is under the pedals, the dash and where I have my hands resting.
“I like this,” I say in hopes to change the topic. He’s now busy looking in his phone. He looks focused. A wah him a do so?
“Nick? I try and he gives me a side eye before his focus shifts back to his phone. Am I bothering him?
“Is everything okay?”
He shakes his head. “A mi nigga a tell me sup’m mon, soon deal with you,” he tells me and I smile, continuing to admire the car.
Then I remember my previous objective. A the shoes mi intend fi look at. I finally get a look, and he’s wearing a black Air Force. Mi never expect that. I guess him a rest the Clarks them fi now. He finally gets off the phone and I realize that the Crown has driven off ahead of us.
“Your friend, a him did a tell yuh sup’m?” I look back at him.
“Yah,” he answers and I stare at his braces. He looks so cute in them.
“Your teeth are perfect... why do you need braces?” I ask, resting my chin in my palm as I wait for his answer, staring in his mouth. The braces, paired with his smile is a dangerous combo.
He chuckles. “Zara how yuh mean mi nuh need it?” he pulls off.
Finallyy! Because hungry a kill mi. Mi nuh eat nutt’n from morning. The thought of Henry makes me roll my eyes. The car accelerates at the traffic light across from the KFC. The noticeable vibration in my stomach makes my cheeks warm.
Puhleaseeeeee Doh embarrass me!
“You a stop a the KFC?” my voice low.
“Yuh hungry?” his brows furrow. The line too long, Zara. He glances at it, I can tell he’s contemplating it just from the way he’s flexing his hand.
He looks back at me. “Bad bad?” his face softens and I nod.
“Yes,” I laugh.
“You can wait thirty minutes?”
“Yes,” I say then he drives off.
“What you eat this morning?” he inquires, finally turning his attention back to me after being silent. I look through the window, watching the moving vehicles. Jesus, why him affi ask this?
