“No. That’s not it. She’s just been obsessed with ‘Stenton Rogers,’” —she used air quotations—“…since we were in grammar school is all. She was excited when she learned you’d be local in Jersey this summer and could meet you.” Zoey shrugged her shoulders. “She jumped at the opportunity. Proclivities…no. Overzealous fan, perhaps.”
I motioned the space between us. “Being an overzealous fan will get you this: An opportunity in the program you’re enrolled in this summer. A chance to chat. A proclivity will get you in a hotel room where she is with Al, doing exactly what they’re engaged in right now.” I pointed behind me towards the entrance of the restaurant. “So, you’ve explained to me how you’re hanging out with the likes of Ms. Angela. What you’ve yet to share are your motives for tagging along.”
Her head jerked. “Listen, I don’t have ulterior motives. I simply won’t leave my cousin hanging while she’s with a man who could take advantage of her. And while I don’t share the same desire to do what she’s doing now, because I actually only allow men who give a crap about me to touch me, I don’t judge her.” Then her head cocked back and eyes squinted. “And if I recall, you have no room to pass judgment either. Every woman on the planet has seen all of your tattoos!”
Zoey inclined in her seat, coming close enough that I could smell the coconut of her fragrance, but not enough for me to taste it. I couldn’t believe the excitement that spiked in my chest.
“Me, I get my men the old fashion way: boy meets girl…boy’s attracted to girl…girl so happens to be attracted to him, too. Boy and girl do whatever they want together…mutually-consenting, mutually-desiring, and mutually-pursuing. I bet my situation is a lot more genuine and uncomplicated than yours. Unlike you, when men pursue me, they see me. They can experience my essence with no fa?ade that I create to attract or maintain their interest. With you, women are drawn to those materialistic things you’ve acquired and never look within because they’re too preoccupied by your manufactured exterior reeling them in. I don’t have to be concerned with that. So, good luck to you, sir.”
She was pissed. And so fucking cute. I’ll be damned if my dick didn’t harden under the table at her jibe. I couldn’t contain my chuckle. Later I would consider the truth in her rant. Right then I just wanted to enjoy her. She was like a little ball of energy with so much fire in her.
A Ni?a.
I took a swig of my water then asked. “What are you studying?”
Her neck twisted to face me. “Huhn?”
“You’re a student at Princeton, right? What are you studying?”
“Finance,” she tossed over. “Just ended my second year.” Her voice was much lower now. She was affected, still fighting her anger.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
Fuck.
“What’s that face for? Why did you wince like I insulted you?”
Because you haven’t lived yet and have shown more substance than women I encounter that are twice your age.
“How old are you?” she pressed.
“Twenty-nine.”
“Well, don’t be concerned about me wanting you. Remember, I’m void of ulterior motives here.” She slightly rolled her eyes over her folded arms.
So fucking cute.
“So, tell me something about you,” I forged ahead, finding myself entertained by this conversation.
“Hunh?” she asked again, confused.
“I’m sure you know everything about me. Shit, my life is laid out for the world. Tell me something about you.”
“I know everything about you?” she scoffed. “My. How presumptuous we are.”
“Yeah…isn’t that why you chose this summer program?”
“No. And I only know what I need to know about you.”
“Which is?”
“Your name, your height, the team you play for, and my cousin is going to have your babies—or was going to have your babies,” she corrected herself just as the waiter came with our food.