Page 34 of False Start
His smirk turns into a grin. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have a few suggestions, but the first thing I’d recommend is…”
He presses his lips to mine and cuts my words off. I was going to say “kiss me,” but I guess he got the hint. He cradles my face in his hands like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. He kisses me slowly and passionately, but there’s also a sense of urgency. My hormones surge as my hands begin to wander all over his perfect body. We get lost in each other and abandon the world for a little while.
— 12 —
Now
AFTER I WALK OUT of my office and leave Otto, Leslie, Zina, and Bryant behind me, they leave me in peace. And to ensure they leave me that way, I don’t go directly home. I park close to Jackson Square in the Quarter, leave my cell in the car, and walk the streets of the city I love more than any other place on earth. I don’t know if past lives exist, but if they do, I’m pretty sure I lived here before. There’s something both brazen but easy going about New Orleans.
I find a bench on Bourbon Street and watch the street performers–the silver men, the artist formerly known as Prince, and Michael Jackson, and other part-time acts I haven’t seen before. For about an hour, I sit quietly and watch the city pass me by, desperate to be alone with my thoughts. And when I’ve had my fill, I stroll down the streets through the tourists and pop into shops here and there. I mostly wander to pass the time, so I don’t have to face the emotions swirling around inside me. It’s all too raw, too painful to remember.
By the time the sun sets, I’m tired of walking. I want to go home, have a drink, and forget that I ever fell in love with Bryant Hudson. But the city is alive this evening and the news of his contract with the Voodoo broke. The people of our hometown couldn’t be more excited to have a local boy as their new quarterback, and there’s already talks of his franchise hopes. And so my ex’s name floats around the city like he’s the second coming of Jesus. When I’ve had enough of hearing his name, I walk back to my car and drive the few crowded blocks home.
At home, I finally check my phone and see quite a few messages.
Zina: Are you okay?
Bryant: I’m sorry.
Leslie: Biiiiiiitttttcccccchhhhhh, get your cute ass over here when you come home. M’kay? M’kay. Need help picking out countertops, cabinets, and general kitchen fuckery for homeboy.
Bryant: I’m at your house. Where did you go, baby? Please come talk to me.
Leslie: Mr. Football Star is on your front stoop if you’re avoiding him.
Leslie: But just tell me, does his ass feel as good under your hands as it looks like it would?
Leslie: Because, just dayum.
Leslie: Also, he looks like a sad puppy dog right now.
Zina: Let me know you’re okay.
Zhanna: I’m fine, but it would be nice to have yours and Leslie’s support. It feels like you’ve all so easily forgiven him for tearing my heart out. You’re supposed to be on my side, but it doesn’t feel like you are right now.
Zina: I am on your side, dummy. You’re miserable without him, and don’t you dare deny it. If I didn’t know being with him is exactly what you want then I wouldn’t give him the time of day. You still love him. If you didn’t, I’d back off.
Zhanna: If Bryant and I get back together it won’t be because we were pushed together.
I put my phone down and grab the biggest bottle of wine in my fridge I can find and head next door to Leslie’s house. He opens the door before I can knock.
“Oooooooo, girl, is that a chilled red?”
“I’m a rebel. Who says you can’t chill a red?”
“Let’s air her out while you tell me where you’ve been,” he says.
“I walked around the Quarter. I just wanted to be by myself and alone with my thoughts for a while.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“I know you. And I may have only known him for a day, but I also know you when it comes to him. You went to that place.”
“What place?” I ask.
