Page 35 of Cause When You Love Someone
“True, but Ishmael made me feel like if I called, he would come running. I’m not really used to people doing that without expecting something in return. I like that about him.”
Sage lifted his finger in the air. “I’m sure you also like how fine he is. He reminds me of that rapper AZ Chike, but he’s finer and thicker and a few inches taller.”
I snapped my fingers when Sage pretended to drift into a trance.
“Hey! Stop daydreaming about my man—bodyguard.”
“Nah, you had it right the first time,” he joked. “Let’s go get you ready so your bodyguard can escort you and your ex-boyfriend out on the town.”
I placed a pillow over my face and screamed, “That sounds horrible!”
Along with Sage, I walked into my closet at my mom’s and searched for my leather D2 two-piece. Since I decided to get dressed at my mom’s house, my selection wasn’t as broad, but I still tried to coordinate with the options Chaz had sent earlier. In the same message, he asked if he could get dressed at my place, and I quickly vetoed the idea. I knew our closeness that night would send mixed signals, but I prayed my dismissive behavior would remind Chaz we were done.
As I put on a pair of big silver hoops, I looked out the second-floor window and spotted Ishmael. He leaned against a party bus with his attention planted on his phone; however, after a few seconds, his eyes floated up to my window. Stuck in place, I could feel him touching me, even from far away. His studious frames had been replaced with a pair of buffs, and instead of slacks and a polo, Ishmael dressed in a motorcycle jacket, black pants, and boots. For the first time, he wore a diamond piece around his neck, and the watch on his wrist shone bright enough for me to see from upstairs.
“I see the bodyguard pulled out his good shit tonight,” Sage commented, breaking my trance.
“Don’t do that. Ishmael always looks fly.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t always wear diamond frames.”
Nervously, I wandered around the room, making sure I had everything I needed for the night, then I made my way out the front door. The night breeze welcomed me outside, and Ishmael’s dimpled smile soon followed.
I strutted over to him, swaying my hips like an African beat played in my head. “I see you brought out your Sunday best,” I greeted him.
“In that case, I guess every day is Sunday.”
“Oh. You’re on your cocky shit tonight. I like it.”
In the midst of our flirting, three black foreign cars sped up my mom’s driveway and parked behind the party bus.
My eyes did a lap around my head as I stepped away from Ishmael when Chaz and his friends walked in our direction. His low growl made my eyes cling to my leather boots. Ishmael may not have agreed, but I didn’t want him involved in my personal drama. I didn’t need Chaz to latch onto the idea that Ishmael and I had something going on and act a fool during our booking.
A little while after Chaz and his crew arrived, Simone and some girls I worked with in the past showed up, and we got on the road.
I purposely sandwiched myself between Sage and Simone so Chaz wouldn’t have the chance to sit next to me. Luckily and unluckily, the spot planted me directly in Ishmael’s line of vision.
Are you mad at me?I texted Ishmael when I observed his tense disposition.
Superman:Mad at you for what? I didn’t say anything, Clarke.
I tried not to stare him down before texting back,Not verbally, but your body language is loud.
Superman:What is it saying, Clarke?
That you’re . . . bothered?I replied with a question mark since I didn’t know if I was right.
Superman: I’m here to work, Clarke.
STOP TYPING MY NAME!I responded.
Superman: I’m here to work, Lois Lane.
I couldn’t hide my smile before Chaz pointed in my direction.
“Who are you talking to? You blushing and shit.”
For a second, I forgot I had on makeup and swiped my hand across my forehead.
