Page 4 of Love Me Now: Adrian & Kwamé
Kwamé cracked up. “I do not think you’re hideous.”
“Got to,” I countered. “Ain’t no way a sexy muhfucka like me can’t even get to first base wit’ you.”
She threw her head back and laughed harder.
“Ya mama thinks I’m a joke,” I mumbled to Jessie. She offered me another soggy-ass French fry.
“I don’t think you’re a joke either,” she stated. “I’m pregnant now, Adrian—”
“And?”
“—And even if I wasn’t—”
“What you meaneven if?”
“—I don’t think we would work,” she finished.
“Jessie, I sure hope you don’t inherit that lyin’ spirit ya mama got,” I said.
Kwamé smacked her teeth, then burst into laughter.
“You’re laughin’ ‘cause you know I’m right.”
Her laughter sobered, and she peered across the table at me. “It won’t work because I want someone who’s willing to love me now and forever. Not someone who wants to play with myheart and decide to discard it when he’s done. I don’t want the awkward talking stage or the meaningless ass sex that follows.”
“Is that what it felt like with Jessie’s dad?” I asked. Since she wanted to talk about feelings and shit, this was the perfect time to slide that nigga in.
“This isn’t about him.”
“It definitely is,” I disputed. “Whatever he did to you makes you question even the most honest and genuine of niggas. Me.” I looked into her eyes and dared her to lie. “Matter fact, sex with me would be everything except meaningless. Can’t you tell by the way I look at you that this shit ain’t a game for me. Must I beg, my baby?”
She glanced away.
“Bet,” I replied. I’d get on my knees for her. “Of course, you can tell it’s more than the way I look at you. Right?”
Reluctantly, she nodded.
“How can you tell? I wanna hear you tell me how you know I’m serious as fuck about us,” I coaxed.
Sighing, she replied, “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” I reiterated. “What else?”
“You want to be here.”
“That’s my girl. I don’t just want to be here. Ineedto be here ‘cause this is where I’m supposed to be. The sooner you get on board, the sooner we can move down the aisle.”
She giggled again. “If you don’t quit talking like that. What do you even know about me?”
“I know that you’re stubborn as fuck. You have a PhD in psychology and yet you refuse to tackle ya own feelings. That’s confusing.”
“What else do you know?”
“You like pound cake and prefer soul food over any other meal. You sleep with the television on ‘cause you hate the dark… Should I go on?”
She cleared her throat and said, “Those are all superficial things—”
“You were born in Atlanta and left at the hospital. You’ve never met ya biological parents and have no desire to. You’ve settled it within ya’self that everything happens for a reason, and they did what was best for you. Although you don’t hold any grudges towards them, you still mourn them and wish you could meet them, if only once. You gave to birth to Jessie alone…” I was pushing the envelope by divulging that I knew her business. Just a little, though. It was enough to let me know that Jessie’s father wasn’t shit. “Jesara Adrianna Stone was born June 8th and weighed six and half pounds. Again… Should I go on?” One day soon, we would discuss how Jessie’s middle name came to be a version of my name.
