You Make Me Wanna Page 6

  Angie unlocked her seat belt and reached for the back of my head, bringing my mouth to hers. We kissed hungrily, her tongue entwined with mine.

  We kissed like that for five minutes, until my neck became sore and my lips numbed. She reached under my dress and tugged at my underwear, which was already moist.

  “Kyla,” she breathed into my ear, well aware that was one of my weakest spots, “let me eat your pussy one more time.”

  If words could make me come, I would have come right then and there. I was so tempted; so tempted to let Angie soothe my body and ease the aggravation I had been feeling. So intrigued by the thought of Angie climbing into my seat, opening my legs, and devouring my clit one last time. And yet, another less lustful and more heedful part of me was aware that even though I’d find myself physically gratified, I would again find myself lacking the meaningful companionship I still had not found and was now searching for.

  “Angie,” I said, trying to part from her.

  Angie stopped nibbling my ear and fondling my crotch to look at me.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? We always do. And you always enjoy it.” She attempted to kiss my ear.

  “I know, Angie. I always love our time together, but we can’t let it end like this. It just kind of cheapens everything, doesn’t it?” I said, as if sex wasn’t the primary foundation of our relationship.

  Angie retreated to her seat.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty.

  “No, no, no. It’s all good.”

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked, not wanting one of her last memories of me to be negative.

  “I’m not mad, Kyla, for real, I’m not. I guess I was looking to dignify what we had, and at least by making love one more time, I would have felt that I at least meant something to you. I know we didn’t spend all that much time together, but you’re ready to end it out of the blue. I wasn’t expecting this, that’s all. I wasn’t trying to disrespect what you already told me. Just hopeful you could show me something. What, I don’t know . . .”

  “I think we’re looking at it different. I thought being honest was showing you the utmost respect, because that’s what you deserve. To me, if we have sex now, it seems like sharing ass is all we were ever good for, and I don’t want to go out like that.”

  “I feel you, Kyla. It’s cool. You know I still love you, girl.”

  “Aw, you’re so sweet,” I said, reaching for a hug. “So special.”

  We held tightly for a moment before Angie put the car into reverse and drove to my apartment.

  Outside the complex we were quiet, certain the moment was the last curtain to our noncommittal relationship.

  “Good night,” I said, taking hold of my purse and briefcase.

  “Bye, babe.” Angie leaned forward and kissed my lips.

  I couldn’t help but to kiss back.

  Once outside the car and inside my apartment building, I watched her drive away through the small window in the door. A minor wave of disappointment swept over me, and I briefly questioned if I had done the right thing. Though I felt I had, I took a solemn stroll up to the second floor to my apartment.

  David was sitting on the couch engrossed in a Queer as Folk episode. He loved the Showtime series and could watch rerun after rerun.

  “Hey, David,” I said in a low voice.

  “What’s up, sugar?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

  I took my shoes off and walked to give him a kiss on his cheek. “Not much.”

  David recognized the somber expression on my face. The one I had been carrying around every night for a week. “No call yet, baby?” he asked, referring to Asia.

  “No, she hasn’t called yet.” I headed to my bedroom. I didn’t even feel like talking about what had just happened with Angie. “Night, sweetie.”

  “Night, baby girl.”

  Inside my bedroom, I removed my dress, tossed my shoes into the closet, and pinned my hair into a heap at the back of my head. I washed my face, applied nighttime moisturizers, and snuggled under my comforter, whispering to the heavens, “When, when, when?”

  “What in the goddamn hell fucking time is it?” I grumbled as the musical ring tone of my cell phone interrupted my Thursday night sleep. Another bad habit I had developed was the merging of various curse words together in unusual formation when I was severely frustrated.

  I got up and retrieved the phone from its charger. The phone said ASIA. Humph, I scoffed. A week and a day later she finally decides to return my call? At midnight, on top of that? Clearing the sleepiness from my voice and forcing an instant attitude adjustment, I answered the phone as calmly as I could, “Hello.”

  “Kyla,” Asia said softly.

  All the annoyance I felt was easily replaced with the excitement of hearing her voice again. “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said a bit louder. “This last week has been so crazy.”

  “That’s okay,” I lied.

  “We buried Mrs. Garfield today.”

  Oh damn, damn, damn! I smacked my forehead. In all my selfish emotional distress, I hadn’t once considered the old woman. “Asia, I’m sorry,” I said, embarrassed.

  “She passed the other day, just after I saw you. Between dealing with my other patients and Mrs. Garfield’s daughter, I haven’t had time to call.”

  “Marlon told me about her daughter.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s no piece of cake. May Mrs. Garfield rest in peace, but I’m sure as hell glad that I don’t have to deal with her daughter anymore,” Asia said angrily.

  For the first time I could tell that her Miss America smile had disappeared.

  “Anyway, Kyla, when do you think we can get together?”

  “Tell me when you’re free. I can work around you.”

  “Well, how about now?”

  I was so damn tired and desperately needed to rest my eyes and body, but I wasn’t about to decline Asia’s invitation, even though, only a minute before, I was bitching that she was just now calling.

  “Sure.” I glanced in the mirror above my dresser to see how bad I looked after only a couple hours of sleep. “Where do you want to meet?” I asked.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Near Marlon, on the opposite side of the park.”

  “I’ll come by you,” she said. “Let’s meet at the Waffle House off of Greenview.”

  I looked at the clock. It said 12:30 a.m. At least we would beat the after-the-club crowd. “Okay. I can be there in thirty minutes,” I said, hoping I wasn’t underestimating the time it would take me to get ready.

  “I’ll beat you there. See you soon, Kyla.”

  “Bye, Asia.”

  How in the hell do I get ready for a one a.m. date? I had gotten ready for 1 a.m. arrivals to my apartment, which required nothing more than a quick shower and scented candles. I decided not to overdo it. We were, after all, only going to the Waffle House.

  After selecting a low-rise pair of Diesel jeans and a Gap favorite tee, I hopped in the shower and then brushed my teeth. I opted against a full face of makeup and settled for M•A•C pressed powder, black mascara, and clear lip-gloss. Surprisingly, my nerves remained untroubled on my short drive to the all-night diner.

  When I pulled up, I spotted Asia sitting at a table along the window. She waved as I walked past and entered the near-empty eating-house.

  “Thanks for coming at such short notice,” she said after I sat down. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.”

  Asia had her hair pulled back in a French braid, a dash of black eyeliner, and two small diamond studs in each ear. She was stunning.

  Hmmm, is she flirting with me? “I was beginning to wonder.”

  “I kept wanting to call, but then I’d get interrupted and then when I’d have a chance again, it was late at night. I just couldn’t go another day without calling. I was feeling pretty bad.”

  “It’s okay. I’m just glad you did.”

  “Ar
e you hungry?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have a waffle of course,” I said, eyeing the all-in-one menu and paper placemat.

  With a quick review of the meal items, she said, “Yeah, me too.”

  I ordered a small milk, and Asia asked for decaffeinated coffee.

  After our sleepy waitress lazily wrote down our orders and walked away, Asia wasted no time picking up right where we had left off back at Marlon’s. “So how long have you been gay, Kyla?”

  “Before I answer that question, Asia, I have to ask why you’re phrasing the question like that—how long? Why do you ask that?”

  Asia rapped her short, manicured fingers against the table. “Just a hunch, I guess.”

  “I hope you can’t read everything about me that easily.”

  “That might not be such a bad thing.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, for you, not for me.”

  “So?” she asked, not letting up.

  Damn, she really wanted to hear my story. “Okay, you’re right. I haven’t been out all that long,” I said, quoting the word out with my fingers. “When I was twenty-six, I met and fell in love with a woman for the first time. Before her, I had never been attracted to a woman. At that time I was still with my boyfriend, who’d proposed to me a few months after I met her. It took me a while to decide what I wanted to do, but I eventually made the best decision for me.”

  “And that was to be with women.”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened with the woman?”

  My eyes closed, suddenly I was back on Steph’s couch, my heart crushing with her every word. “She, um, she got back together with her ex before I made my decision. By the time I told her I wanted to be with her, it was too late.”

  “Hey, you okay?”

  I opened my eyes to her concerned expression. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

  “Do you feel like you made the right decision still?”

  “At first I wasn’t so sure, but it didn’t take long for me to know that I had. So, yes, I made the right decision.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because no man has ever made me feel the way a woman does. No man ever will.”

  “But how do you know that for sure, Kyla?”

  “Because I want to be with a woman.” Why was she challenging me?

  “So you’re not receptive to the idea of being with a man again?”

  “I love women, not men, therefore, no, I’m not open to the idea of being with a man again.”

  Asia considered my response for a moment.

  “What’s it like for you, being with a woman, I mean?”

  Aw shit, I got my ass up in the middle of the night for this?

  She sure was inquisitive as hell. That was a straight-girl question. “What exactly do you mean, Asia?” I asked, trying to conceal my disappointment.

  “Not sexually, I mean, emotionally.”

  I sighed. “Well, emotionally I feel like I can open up and express myself to a woman in ways that are understood. As women, we’re nurturers and have a natural sensitivity to each other’s needs and wants. Emotionally and physically, I connect with women in ways I never imagined until a few years ago.”

  Why was I pretending like I had emotionally connected with any woman since Stephanie? Sounding like I had actually had a real relationship?

  “So how many relationships have you been in since you’ve lived in Atlanta?”

  Asia’s intuition must have kicked in again.

  “Well, I’ve dated several women over the past couple years,” I said coolly.

  “So none,” she said with a smile.

  Asia sure had me penned correctly, making her all the more appealing.

  “No, just friends.”

  Asia laughed aloud.

  “Why is that funny, Asia?” I asked, barely able to stifle my own laughter. I knew good and well what “friends” meant.

  “You know why. You won’t commit to the women you date, so you classify them as friends, even though I have a feeling that you do things most friends don’t do.”

  “What happened this past week?” I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the table. “Did you take a crash course in Kyla 101 or what?”

  “So I’m right?” she asked, more as a question than triumph at chipping away the layers of my protective shell.

  Damn, did she set me up for that one? “Let’s just say, I haven’t found the woman who makes me want to commit.”

  Seemingly satisfied with my answer, she adjusted her seating position, curling one leg under the other, and searched the restaurant with her eyes as the waitress delivered our food.

  “Is the interrogation over? Do I pass?” I buttered my waffle and drowned it in maple syrup.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” she answered playfully.

  For a straight girl, she sure knew how to flirt, even in its subtlety.

  “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

  Suddenly my mind drew a blank. The one and only question I wanted to know was painfully obvious, yet I couldn’t bring myself to ask it.

  “So how do you like your job?” Great, Kyla. Real original. I’m sure she dragged you out in the middle of the night to talk about work.

  “I love it. Aside from losing patients from time to time like Mrs. Garfield, I love every aspect of what I do,” she answered before taking a bite. “Is that what you really want to know?”

  Why was she being so evocative? I wasn’t up to being shot down by a beautiful woman at this time of night, but what the hell.

  “Why did you agree to have dinner with me . . . well, breakfast, as it turns out? What made you want to come?”

  “I found you interesting,” she said casually.

  Damn! Another straight-girl response. This was the what’s-it-like-to-be-gay conversation. Still, there was something different about Asia’s questions. Yeah, they weren’t as stupid as the ones I used to ask Steph.

  “What do you do?” she asked, switching gears once again.

  “I’m a buyer at Rich’s, Rich’s-Macy’s now.”

  “Ah, that explains the designer suit,” she said with a grin.

  “As hard as I work, I may as well treat myself,” I said, justifying the two-hundred-dollar outfit.

  “It looked good on you.”

  “Thank you.” I tried to control the heat that flushed my cheeks. “Asia . . .” I said, playing with my napkin.

  “Yes,” she said, her seductive almond eyes on mine.

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  “Do you think I am?”

  “But you’re not, are you?”

  “I’m not. Am I what?” she asked, amused by my inability to ask the question I was dying to know.

  “Are you gay?” I asked quietly.

  “Why are you whispering?” she asked, a glint of humor in her eyes.

  “Because I don’t want to offend you if you’re not.”

  “Well,” she said, toying with her fork between her teeth, lightly licking the surface from the tips, “what do you think?”

  “Um, honestly, I hoped you were,” I admitted shyly. I thought I’d left that shyness at home.

  “To answer your question, yes, I’m gay. Like I said, I’ve been to Traxx.”

  “I know, but you know I couldn’t assume that meant anything really. I was once a straight girl in a gay bar myself.”

  “Yeah, been there, done that. I mean, dating those women, that is. Never again, no offense. That’s why I asked the questions.” Asia frowned. “Straight women complain all the time about not being able to find a man, but finding a compatible woman is just as hard.”

  My mind briefly wandered to Angie, and I found myself unable to fully agree. Even though I had remained single for so long, it wasn’t because I hadn’t come across any decent women.

  “Yeah, I guess it can be,” I said.

  “Not for you, huh?” She laughed.

  “Never mind that,” I said with a smile. “So . . . is it possible we can tu
rn this breakfast into a dinner sometime?”

  “Absolutely. I won’t keep you up all night next time either.”

  It was challenging, but I held back the impulse to respond with a sexy remark, which would have been inappropriate for our first meeting, but she read my mind once again.

  “At least for now.”

  “Yes, just for now,” I repeated.

  Soon we finished our waffles that turned cold, ignored in our conversation.

  “Can I ask you some questions now?”

  “Be gentle,” she said.

  “Why did you move from Dallas?” I asked, sensing there was more to the blanket answer she’d given me.

  This time, uneasiness swept over her face. “I left Dallas because I fell in love with the wrong person.”

  Sipping on my milk, I waited a second for her to continue, but she didn’t. “So what happened?” I asked, pressing her just as she’d done me.

  Asia set her fork down and placed her hands flat against the table then leaned forward. “I got taken advantage of financially by the woman I was living with,” she said. “She tried to take me for everything I had, and I was too blind to see it. It started off small, with her needing money to pay her light bill. That upgraded to me paying her rent. When that got to be too much, she moved in with me, saying she was going to start her own business. She asked me to help with the up-front money, and because I loved her, I believed her.” Asia rolled her eyes. “Well, everything seemed to get in the way, with the business actually getting off the ground. She’d need money to file some papers, or money for a particular license. Really, they were all bullshit excuses to keep asking for money. My friends, who then could read people better than I can now, always told me she didn’t seem right, but I wouldn’t listen.

  “Finally, after she started asking me for my school money, I said, ‘Hell no. No more.’ I did some checking around and found out she had another girlfriend in an apartment across town and my money was taking care of them and the other woman’s daughter. I kicked her out the same day I found out.”