Michelle was annoyed. As much as she tried to conceal her disappointment, she couldn’t resist feeling the need to bring it up again.
“He’s not my boyfriend, first off. And for the hundredth time it’s just never come up, Shelly! I’m not used to having anyone in my life special enough to share small details like that with,” I defended.
“That detail isn’t small when you spend his birthday with him, dance for him and his friends and hit him with the coochie to top it off! I keep telling you to let loose with this one. It’s okay to be vulnerable and…” she stumbled.
“And what?” I asked with snappy attitude.
“…and in love. There. I said it!”
“Damn, now you hit me with the L word. It’s only been—” she interrupted me.
“…five months since your first date,” Michelle interjected.
Five months wasn’t long in my book. But Michelle was right, I needed to rethink this relationship. The time had flown by so quickly that what was five months felt like five weeks. Azmir and I spent endless nights together when he wasn’t traveling. We were in a great place, we talked freely with a comfortable flow of exchange and our sex was mind-blowing. I wanted him to enjoy me, whatever good I presented. And I sure as hell didn’t want to disrupt that with talks of falling in love. I didn’t want to scare him off.
“Yeah…whatever. My point is love takes time and more time for me to get in it. We’re taking things slow,” I continued with my pushback.
“Okay, but remember life can be a lonely journey without someone to love. And I won’t be around much longer to be the only person to take the journey with you!”
“Shelly, why in the hell do you always have to talk that bereavement shit? Please!” I screamed exasperated. She always got me with that. I hated to even think about life without Michelle, let alone her dying. With that, I ended the conversation as I drove off. I had crazy errands to run to get ready for my date with Azmir.
At dinner that following week and the night before I was due to leave for the Bahamas, Azmir and I enjoyed a wonderful meal at Crustaceans. I loved their crab puffs and garlic noodles. The wine was superb, the conversation flowed well and the ambiance was ever so present. The restaurant is known for its French-Colonial décor, floor-level pond and aquarium that leads from the cocktail area into the main dining area.
Azmir let hair grow on his face just the way I liked—no, actually loved! Tonight his goatee is ferine, I loved seeing his dark facial hair against his smooth chocolate skin. Damn! This man knew what he was doing. He donned a simple black YSL T-shirt with black denim jeans and his black classic Jordan’s. Delectable. But our conversation took a left turn for deep this particular evening.
“You’re so intense. It intimidates me,” I blurted out.
His eyes flew up to meet mine, widened in wonder. I could even see his spine level and his head straightened. I can’t say from where the nerve derived, but it spilled out. My heartbeat tripled after the words flowed from my mouth. But it was my truth, something I’d been suppressing for months now. He was always reserved and perched with an eagle eye. I wanted to know what he was thinking at times, though I could never muster the balls to ask.
“I never endeavor to intimidate you.” There was a slight pause. “I mean, I know I have the tendency, but it isn’t a tactic I employ with you,” Azmir muttered.
My mouth dried and my eyes danced around the room to avoid his searing gaze. I wanted to say so much but was afraid to fully express myself.
“So you are aware that you do it to others?”