Page 29 of Arris, Jayme & Dyani
“You just want to stand there and stare at your boy?” He grinned and I rolled my eyes while I tried to fight my smile and failed. “I mean, you can sit there and stare at me while I do this if you want, but shit, it may take a little longer.”
“As if.” I sucked my teeth and took the empty box from him to start a pile near the front door.
With the open floor plan, it was right between the kitchen and living room anyway.
“As if what?” Arris started pulling each of my cabinets open.
“As if you’d let me sit there and watch you unpack all ofmyshit.” I stressed the word my.
“Let me tell you one more time since shit is obviously getting lost in translation. I just want to spend time with you.”
“I heard you.” I walked over to the nearest box on the living room side. “I just didn’t take that to mean you’d let me sit around giving you directions.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Men aren’t usually good at listening.” I shrugged.
“The men you’ve dealt with so far,” he corrected. “But shit, I’ve never had an issue with taking directions from a woman.” He started putting the dishes away, using the few I’d been able to put away the day before as a guideline. “That’s part of being a good man. You’ve got to know when to lead and when to follow, love.”
I smirked at that but didn’t comment. I just started taking things out of the box I’d just opened.
“So, if we were leaving the spot tonight, where would you want to go?” He grabbed another box.
“I’m pretty food motivated,” I admitted.
“What kind of food? Wait,” he smirked, “Let’s call out our favorites at the same time.”
“Okay,” I chuckled as I collapsed on my coach.
“One… Two… Three… Chinese food!”
“Sushi!” I yelled at the same time.
“Alright. Chinese food and sushi. We can make something shake with that.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. Alright. Let’s go into the real deep shit.”
“Let me hear it.”
“Horror movies or comedy?"
I didn’t hesitate. “Horror.”
“Good answer.”
“Alright. Jazz or classical?”
“Jazz, easily. I mean, I’m really an R&B type of nigga, but I can fuck with some smooth jazz when I’m smoking or riding around at night.”
“Smoking what?” I peeked over the back of the couch.
Arris looked back at me.
“Not fucking crack,” he deadpanned and I laughed immediately.
“I mean, I figured that.”
