Page 22 of Safe Word
He chuckled. “Hell, my mom thinks so.”
“How is she anyway?” I asked.
Kannon’s mom was hilarious. I’d only heard her on the phone, but I loved how she would go from fussing and cursing at him to telling him how he needed to come to church more so he would be saved. I didn’t know what to think of her, but she kept me laughing.
“She’s good. She calls herself having a boyfriend.”
The bite in his words revealed how unhappy he was with that situation. I considered pushing, but I was enjoying the moment too much. The last thing I wanted to do was sour the mood.
“Maybe I can take you to dinner at her house Sunday,” he tossed in.
“That would be nice.” I nodded.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone to church, but I knew it had to have been at least three years, maybe five. We sipped our tea and watched the world move at a snail’s pace. I was grateful for every moment of peace.
“Sometimes I’m so mad at myself for not figuring out a way out a long time ago. For too long, I’ve swallowed my pride and common sense and took bullshit. I’m mad with myself forbelieving the men in expensive suits, who used big words to explain how my life would be nothing without the circus they created. I should have wanted better for myself.”
I didn’t expect him to reach across the table. When his thumb brushed over my knuckles, I felt it in my chest.
“You only did what you thought was necessary to survive. Surviving doesn’t mean you’re weak. It’s a trophy, like a receipt for the shit you had to endure to get to the next step.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat that should have been the prelude to tears. Now it didn’t feel like they would come. Yet again, Kannon’s words had comforted me more than his size or his strength.
We took a different way back to his house. It felt more scenic than ducking behind buildings and walking down alleys. I walked a few feet ahead when I spotted a gorgeous mural of a young girl with huge afro puffs soaring above the city, with yellow headphones on and her eyes closed tight as she listened to the music. Music notes floated above her head, and sparkly gold peeked from the clouds. It was beautiful.
“She looks so free.” I admired.
“She looks like you looked the morning after I brought you to my house,” Kannon replied.
Heat crawled up my neck, but I couldn’t deny his words. I felt freer than I had in a long time.
When we made it back to his place, I stripped out of his hoodie and the pair of jeans I was wearing as I made a beeline to his guest room. There had been some lyrics in my head since we made it to the coffee shop that I wanted to get out. I grabbed the notebook and pen Kannon gave me from the dresser and returned to the living room. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading over some paperwork. His brows narrowed as he read, so I decided not to disturb him.
On the couch, I folded my legs under myself and got to work extracting my thoughts. I scribbled fast because the lyrics were coming fast. I hated when I couldn’t remember something exactly the way that I had the first time. This time, they stuck. I crossed a line out and rewrote it to flow better, then sang it to myself to make sure it sounded right.
Once I had the first verse and chorus down, I sang it to see how it flowed. It had good bones already. It didn’t take long for me to get down the second verse. I sang the chorus a few times as I thought about a hook or bridge to give it some weight.
“Sing it again.”
His voice was soft but commanding. I looked up to find Kannon’s eyes on me, waiting for me to oblige his request. Taking a small breath, I sang the song again. Kannon closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair while I sang. He put his hands behind his head. His biceps flexed doing that thing I kept trying not to notice. Kannon was too sexy for words. When the song ended, he opened his eyes with a slow smile.
“That sounds raw, not like a product to be sold but something real and natural. It’s like it came from somewhere deep inside the real Carteay.”
“It came so easy.”
I wanted to tell him that he inspired me to write it but decided against it. There were enough uncertainties between us for now.
“I like it.”
Once he was done going over his paperwork, Kannon made turkey BLTs and curly fries for us. I teased him when he put hot sauce on his sandwich. Now I could see why he had four bottles of the stuff. Kannon put hot sauce on everything. He made me try it, and I didn’t hate it. I didn’t tell him that though.
When he was done eating, Kannon kissed my cheek and got up from the counter. I picked up my tablet and tried to finishthe song I’d been working on. The first half came easy, but I was struggling to finish it. My mind was too occupied to think straight.
Instead of writing more lyrics, I found myself writing Kannon’s name over and over the way girls did in high school when they had a crush. I wrote his name in different fonts and sizes, turned the K into a treble clef, drew hearts in the holes. I did all kind of ridiculous things that someone did when they were absolutely enamored with someone’s existence.
I laughed to myself as I pushed off the stool and padded to the living room. I found Kannon on the floor, doing a stretch. The chords and muscles of his back looked like they were strained to the limit. He didn’t look back or say anything to acknowledge my presence, so I walked over to stand in front of him.
The look in his eye when he looked up at me made my knees bend. I moved forward, straddling his thighs before I lost the nerve. The notebook I’d forgotten I was holding dropped beside us with a gentle thud.
