Page 23 of Cause When You Love Someone
“All these damn flowers.” I grunted.
“A woman that doesn’t like flowers. That’s different.”
“It’s a shock to you, but it shouldn’t be a shock to Chaz. After all these years, he still can’t remember I prefer candy over flowers any day.”
Ishmael rubbed his hand over his fresh cut as he shook his head.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I damn near begged.
“I’m sure you have enough people showering you with their opinions. You don’t need the people in your personal space to follow the trend.”
A knock at the door intruded on our exchange.
“Do you want me to answer it?” he asked, already headed toward the door.
“Yes, please.”
I washed my hands while Ishmael went to get my food, and when he returned, there were two bags in his hands and a studious expression on his handsome face.
“Don’t judge me,” I grumbled. “I don’t film until next month. Plus, my mom isn’t around to call me fat. Let me live.”
“I didn’t say anything. I love to see a woman enjoy a meal after a long day. You earned it.”
“I’d like you to tell Mrs. Rose that.”
“You’re a big girl. God didn’t bless you with pretty lips for nothing. Open your mouth and tell people what’s on your mind.”
I could feel my brow curve in surprise at his choice of words. “Okay. I want you to have dinner with me.” I followed up and pushed a take-out plate over to Ishmael.
His dimples made an appearance before his words.
“When I said I had to go, I wasn’t just talking.”
His rejection caused me to shrink a few inches, although I tried to hide it by bouncing on my tippy toes.
“It’s cool. Maybe next time,” I declared.
Ishmael gave me his back as he slid his jacket on. “Come lock up.”
Like a sad puppy, I followed him to the door with my hands behind my back.
“The schedule shows a club appearance Friday,” Ishmael commented. “I’ll see you then.”
“Yep.”
Once he stepped out the door, I expected him to rush to the elevator, but instead, my hired protection stalled a bit. He placed a hand on the doorframe and studied me. He didn’t wear his thoughts on his face, but his narrowed eyes smiled more than they ever had when I was in his line of vision. I couldn’t tell if it was lust or pity, but the aura of disgust was no longer present.
“Dinner. Next time,” he said before walking off.
A second after I locked my front door, I swung at the air. I didn’t expect Ishmael to spend the night, but I liked having him around. Though his presence was humbling, I enjoyed picking his brain.
Once I finally claimed a seat with a plate of food in hand, I spotted a set of keys on my living room table.
I guess he’ll have to return sooner rather than later,I thought to myself before taking a few pictures of my plate. I scrolled through Instagram as I ate, and soon, I started to wonder if Ishmael was on social media. He seemed like the type to only post once a year and never put anything intimate online.
My pestering assumptions drove me to type his name into the search bar, but a knock at my door put my investigation on pause.
In a hurry, I cleaned my mouth with a napkin, then skipped to the front of my house with Ishmael’s keyring dangling from my finger
