Ever After, page 14
Nick was entirely kidding and Jasmine knew it. She sucked her teeth disapprovingly. “I know you know more French than that,” she chided playfully.
“Sure I do.” Smoothly, Nick closed the distance and slipped her a long, deep, soulful kiss. This was the kind of kiss that was so warm, so long, and so fulfilling, Nick felt a shudder down to his shins.
The kiss was over. “Yes.”
“Huh?” Nick was confused.
“Yes. The answer to your question? Yes.” Nick still looked lost so she helped him out. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? I believe that was directed at me.”
Stiffly, Nick nodded.
“Yes, I will go to bed with you tonight,” she announced softly yet still in a grand manner.
“My Baby J,” he hummed appreciatively, nuzzling her neck.
“I do love you, Nick,” she whispered in his ear.
Without another word, Nick swept her off her feet, and carried her, long limbs and all, into the bedroom. He laid her out on the bed, in the darkness, not turning on the light. Tenderly, he kissed her on the lips before backing away from her. He shuttled around the room in the darkness, arranging and lighting seven or eight small candles. They were strategically placed so that a romantic, yellow-tinged glow bathed the room. Nick rummaged around in a shoe box full of old cassettes and produced one of his infamous slow jams mixes to put in his portable stereo system. The sweet violin- and piano-influenced music of Babyface filled the room at a romantic level. From atop the dresser, Nick rescued a long-unused bottle of Bath & Body Works Sun Ripened Raspberry massage oil and brought it to the bed with him. He placed the bottle on top of the nightstand, next to the box of condoms he had just removed from the depths of the bottom drawer. For such short notice, Jasmine was impressed with the whole seduction scene he had going on. A true romantic.
Even with all this accomplished, Nick wanted her to be absolutely sure. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jasmine kissed him. “Nick . . . make love to me.”
He felt his eyes quiver—from joy. They began to undress each other on the bed, enjoying the contact sensation of a foreign set of hands on sensitive parts of their bodies. When they could, they kissed each other, but not in a way as to slow down their steady progress in disrobing.
Soon, they were before each other on the bed in their birthday suits, various articles of clothing having been kicked to the hardwood floor. Nick ran his hands lightly along her sides until he cupped her light brown breasts in his hands. In response, she traced her hands down the highway of his back, squeezing the dark firm mounds that were his butt. Using a gentle tug, she guided him to her by his butt, leaning back and laying flat to meet the bed. Nick eased his body on top of hers and engaged in kissing her passionately.
What happened next depends on whom you ask. As far as Nick could tell, he was outside of his body. It was as if he were living a dream and watching this incredibly lucky young man make love to this unusually beautiful young woman. His body was on autopilot, coursing, pulsing, and throbbing in ways no undergraduate degree could have instructed him. He was in love for the first time—finally in love!—and he was making love for the very first time. This would be a time he could never possibly forget.
As far as Jasmine could tell, Nick was all there. The man was inside of her, with only a small sheath of rubber separating all of him from all of her. Later on, that would have to change. She wanted to feel him, all of him, and she would someday, she decided. But for now . . . Good God, he felt so good! Jacque had never made love to her like this. Nick combined the right amount of speed and strength with enough change-ups and curveballs to produce an unpredictable, slow and fast rhythmic style of lovemaking. At best, he was physically merging his soul with hers. At worst, they were expressing their love for each other the best way they knew how. To top it all off, they came at the same time—another Jasmine first.
Seeing how it had taken fifty minutes to achieve this minor miracle, they both were knocked out. When Nick would awake later on, he would revel in the fact that he had made love to her so well that she was too tired to want more—a rare female occurrence in his experience. But for now, as he interlocked his naked arms and legs with her arms and legs, male on female, dark on light, Nick was a happy man. This was all he wanted in the world. His “someone” had found him.
Nick woke up first. The light streamed in from outside, the worst of all kinds of light—brilliant, blinding, natural light. Exhausted and still awash in afterglow six hours after the fact, Nick pulled his head back a bit to encompass the totality of the slumbering face that took residence on his chest. She slept so peacefully, he almost did not want to wake her. And what a face, too. From the moment he saw her, Nick knew she had wake-up appeal. The radiant morning light had nothing on Jasmine’s honey-glazed skin. With the back of his hand, Nick caressed her cheek, relishing the evenness of her skin. Not a thought strayed from her. Nick was totally in the moment. That was how he had to know this was nothing short of love.
He grazed her lips with his. This stirred her a bit. She was coming out to play! “Morning, Baby J.”
She fluttered her eyelids in that way people just meeting the day did. A groan escaped her awakening body. “Morning, Babyluv.”
Nick went to give her a real good-morning kiss when she blocked him with her hand over her mouth. “Uh-uh! Morning breath, baby!”
He stared convincingly in her eyes. “I don’t care, Jasmine. I love you, morning breath and all. I’m sure I have it, too. What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then kiss me, you fool.” Nick swiped her hand away and kissed her with as much force and vigor as they were accustomed to. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
In response, Jasmine kissed him back. “Hm. You’re right.” She ran her hands along his face, his hair, all the things about him that were now also her property. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care,” he declared. “We ain’t going nowhere.”
She scrunched up her face. “How do you know I don’t have to do something today?”
Nick suddenly felt like her mother. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was a poor man’s imitation of that bitch. “Do you have something to do?” he asked timidly.
Jasmine unleashed a smile. “No.”
“Then we ain’t going nowhere,” he repeated, smiling. “Baby?”
“Yes, Babyluv.”
“Thank you for coming after me last night. You have no idea how much it means to me.”
“I had no choice. You left.”
“Yes, you did. You know you did, right? That was family. Your mom was beefin’ with me and you were forced to take sides. I’m sorry about that. I’m just glad you came after me. You really love me.”
For that, he was rewarded with a noisy kiss on his forehead. “Yes, I do. I really do. Besides, it wasn’t that tough a call to make.”
“But that’s your moms you walked out on!”
“She was wrong, and you know she was,” Jasmine reasoned. “Parents aren’t infallible. They’re human. And I love you. I had to stand by my man. Would you have done the same thing if your mother had treated me like mine did?”
“My mother would never do something like that.”
“Answer the question. Don’t front,” she directed. “Would you or would you not have come after me if I had walked out on your mom dogging me?”
Nick sighed. “Yes, I would have. That was foul.”
“Yes, it was and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m not proud of what happened there last night. Bottom line is she has no right to try and treat me like I’m still a child and she has no right to tell me how I should feel. I’m me, not her. If I want to fall in love with a fine young don after only knowing him for three weeks, that’s my prerogative. N’est-ce pas?”
“You go, girl!” Nick approved, in an exaggerated ghetto voice.
She snorted a laugh. “What did you think of Nia?”
“Honestly? I’m not on too hot a roll with the rest of your family,” Nick warned.
“Go ahead. I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say about her anyway.”
“Granted this is only a first impression of her, and I don’t really know how she usually is,” Nick qualified.
“Don’t front, Nick. Out with it.”
“I think she’s saditty.”
Jasmine smiled. “That’s it?”
“No. I think she’s saditty, selfish, petty, and a bit vain.”
“All that from just one night? I’m impressed,” Jasmine said. “That’s pretty accurate, I think. Do you think she’s pretty?”
“Of course she is. All three of y’all are pretty ladies.”
“Do you think she’s prettier than me?”
Woo-woo. A loaded question. There was no right answer to this one. If Nick spoke the truth and told her yes, then she would immediately go to the comparison game she had probably been playing all her life with Nia and not be pleased with him. No wonder she had gotten so defensive at the roller rink when she had thought he had been trying to push up on Nia. They both were very attractive but Nia did look better. What could he say? If he said no, it would be an out-and-out lie. So Nick went with the safe answer.
“Her attitude is what turns me off. It makes her not as pretty.”
“You think so?” Jasmine brightened.
He looked at her full of certainty. “Definitely.” A kiss on the nose.
“So what are we going to do today?” Jasmine inquired.
We. Wow. Just like that, the woman had locked them into spending an entire day together. Nick felt thrilled.
“We’re not going anywhere,” vowed Nick. “We both have long weeks ahead of us, and I want to enjoy you while I have you here. With me.”
“Sounds good.”
“Besides, there’s a WNBA game on at three.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You like women’s basketball?”
“Sure. Why not? They play more fundamentally sound basketball, even if most of them can’t dunk. I’m a basketball fan. But I don’t think you hear me, though.”
Sighing as if finding her soulmate could be a reality, she said, “Babyluv, I hear you.” Jasmine squinted past Nick to the hardwood floor. “Is that the remote to the TV there?”
“Yeah. Want me to get it?”
“Please.”
Nick extended himself from his prone position to reach the remote. He handed it to her. “What’re you gonna watch?”
Wordlessly, Jasmine turned on the TV and punched in the numbers for ESPN. SportsCenter came up when the TV turned itself on. Nick was stunned. Right then and there, Nick began to ravage her, to make love to her again. The sportscasters approved.
7
SHE WAS STILL there. It had been the longest time since Nick could remember having made love to somebody and having them around in the morning. Tamara didn’t count. There was a whole different feel after a night of lovemaking—or whatever it was Nick and Asanti had done. That little woman had worn him out. Bally’s had been good to her.
When he looked at her face, Nick was a little disappointed. Not exactly a morning face, that’s for sure. She had tricked him. Little creases and wrinkles and blemishes on her face that were normally hidden under makeup were on grand display. A small price to pay for a full-body workout, Nick decided.
He leaned over to kiss her awake. “Good morning.”
Instantly, she retracted. “No.”
No? Just last night her body had invented new ways to say yes and here she was denying him? Morning sex was the best anyway. Especially on a Sunday when they had time to enjoy it. “Why not?”
“Morning breath,” was her answer. And that was that.
Bored, Nick reached for his remote and turned on the TV. Naturally, ESPN was already on the tube with SportsCenter relaying the late West Coast basketball scores. Again, Asanti stirred, bothered by the TV. “What are you doing?”
“Watching SportsCenter.”
“Must you watch it right now?” she complained.
“Well, you don’t want to come out and play and I’m bored.”
“Turn it to BET.”
“Why? They’re just gonna show them stale old videos they’ve been showing all week. Followed by ten minutes of commercials.”
“C’mon, Nick,” she whined.
Whatever. Nick flipped the remote over to her as he rose from the bed. He walked over to the closet, donned his robe, and left the room in search of food. A half hour later, Asanti was back into her stretch pants and tight T-shirt and on her way out the door. Mumbled something about she had some things to take care of and how she was “grateful” for last night. Grateful. As if Nick had done her a service. She made some vague promise about calling and was out the door in no time. Nick just sat there pitifully, poking at his Rice Chex, feeling like Eddie Murphy in Boomerang after Robin Givens had just used him.
Hope springs eternal, however. In the ferocity of last night, Nick had forgotten about his pseudo-date with Angelica that afternoon. Although it was set up in the wonderfully planned ambiguity initiated by Nick as a necessity for them to “get into character” for their scene, the outing was a thinly veiled swipe at trying to steal the girl right from under her basketball-playing boyfriend. After all, they were going ice skating—Nick’s idea. How many platonic first dates go ice skating? Yet she had agreed. Which meant that she was out there for the taking. Shrugging off the Asanti affair, Nick poured out the remainder of his milk and began to run the water for his shower. Now he was “grateful,” for Asanti’s quick escape.
Today was the last day for ice skating in Chicago. After all, it was the beginning of March. It was a clear day but with bitter, nippy air. Nick met Angelica down at the open-air public rink in Downtown Chicago. Everyone seemed to be there, taking in their last opportunity on the free rink before they shut it down. While admission was free, the skates weren’t, and Nick paid five bucks each for their two pairs of skates.
Angelica, a Chicago-area native, had been ice skating before; Nick had not. The poor man was entirely at the mercy of her assistance. He fell down not once, not twice, but six times. Depending on her as if it would save his life, Nick’s pratfalls garnered her sympathy. The chemistry Nick had sought for their romantic scene was developing.
After a couple of hours, Nick’s behind decided to call it quits. He wobbled over to the side to remove his skates, Angelica right behind him, keeping him steady and upright. Smiling broadly, Angelica sat beside him, removing her skates. This had been a good idea. She had fun.
“You gonna be alright, boy?” she picked.
“Ask my butt, not me,” came Nick’s response. “Thanks for saving it—whatever’s left of it.”
She grinned as she undid her laces. “This was a good idea, Nick.”
Nick concealed a grin of his own. “Think you could like me enough to do the scene now?”
An ambiguous stare. “I think we’ll manage.”
“Let’s run lines,” Nick suggested.
“Alright, boy.”
The two recited their lines to each other as they returned their skates and headed to the train station. On the train, they sat next to each other while repeating their lines over and over. People looked at them like they were having a real conversation, they were so convincing.
Amid the recitation of their lines, something real was happening. That these two knew their lines was not a question. But a connection was forged between them. Not only did Nick say the lines, but he believed them. He dared admit that Angelica was believing them, too. An energy, an unspoken bond, was created between the lines. That chemistry Nick wanted so badly was there, and now that it was there, Nick did not want the date to end.
“Pretty good, Trey,” Nick approved. “We’ve got the lines down. Think we should go over some of the movement in the scene?”
“You mean the blocking?”
“Yeah. Whatever the acting term is.”
Angelica could see that Nick was extending the date. But, in his defense, she was having a good time, he was a good-looking man, and they needed to establish the blocking in the scene that was due Wednesday. Working out blocking would not mean she had cheated on her boyfriend—yet.
“Okay. We can do that. Your place?” She did not want this boy to know where her parents lived, where she usually had Sunday dinner. Nick was cool and all but he was still just a classmate.
“Yeah. My place.” Home court advantage! Nick was giddy like a schoolgirl.
Fullerton was the next stop. Nick guided them from the station back to his apartment. Angelica voiced her admiration of not only the 4Runner parked in the driveway but also of his home. An undergrad Communications major, she was sure not to see these kinds of dollars for a while.
“You’ve got a nice crib here, Nick,” she admired, looking around after her quick tour.
“Thanks. Want anything to drink?” he offered.
“Got any juice?”
“CranGrape.”
“Ooh, good!” she gushed. “Bring me some of that.”
Nick filled two tall tumblers with CranGrape and set them on the living room end table. They arranged themselves casually on the couch and discussed how the scene was set up and some of their ideas. Nick jumped up and rearranged his living room to match the floor plan ideas they had been discussing. They decided the majority of the action would take place on the couch. Then they went into some run-throughs of the scene.
Even in her relaxed Blue Demon athletic gear, his visitor truly was beautiful. Her smooth dark skin looked as clear and consistent as a newly washed blackboard. Angelica was exactly what they were talking about in the phrase “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice.” She wore braided extensions in her black hair, which was pulled into a ponytail. There was nothing white or aquiline about her nose or her lips, both equally broad, rounded, and attractive. She carried those definitively African traits only a black man could fully love. And as they rehearsed their scene, Nick became intoxicated by them.
Fortunately for him, he had a chance to act upon them. There was a kiss written in the script for the scene. Nick was aware that there were ways to kiss and ways not to kiss onstage. Their instructor had not demonstrated stage kissing for them but Nick could tell from the movies he had seen. When the time came in the scene for Nick to kiss the girl, Nick acted so wrong, it had to be right.
“Sure I do.” Smoothly, Nick closed the distance and slipped her a long, deep, soulful kiss. This was the kind of kiss that was so warm, so long, and so fulfilling, Nick felt a shudder down to his shins.
The kiss was over. “Yes.”
“Huh?” Nick was confused.
“Yes. The answer to your question? Yes.” Nick still looked lost so she helped him out. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? I believe that was directed at me.”
Stiffly, Nick nodded.
“Yes, I will go to bed with you tonight,” she announced softly yet still in a grand manner.
“My Baby J,” he hummed appreciatively, nuzzling her neck.
“I do love you, Nick,” she whispered in his ear.
Without another word, Nick swept her off her feet, and carried her, long limbs and all, into the bedroom. He laid her out on the bed, in the darkness, not turning on the light. Tenderly, he kissed her on the lips before backing away from her. He shuttled around the room in the darkness, arranging and lighting seven or eight small candles. They were strategically placed so that a romantic, yellow-tinged glow bathed the room. Nick rummaged around in a shoe box full of old cassettes and produced one of his infamous slow jams mixes to put in his portable stereo system. The sweet violin- and piano-influenced music of Babyface filled the room at a romantic level. From atop the dresser, Nick rescued a long-unused bottle of Bath & Body Works Sun Ripened Raspberry massage oil and brought it to the bed with him. He placed the bottle on top of the nightstand, next to the box of condoms he had just removed from the depths of the bottom drawer. For such short notice, Jasmine was impressed with the whole seduction scene he had going on. A true romantic.
Even with all this accomplished, Nick wanted her to be absolutely sure. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jasmine kissed him. “Nick . . . make love to me.”
He felt his eyes quiver—from joy. They began to undress each other on the bed, enjoying the contact sensation of a foreign set of hands on sensitive parts of their bodies. When they could, they kissed each other, but not in a way as to slow down their steady progress in disrobing.
Soon, they were before each other on the bed in their birthday suits, various articles of clothing having been kicked to the hardwood floor. Nick ran his hands lightly along her sides until he cupped her light brown breasts in his hands. In response, she traced her hands down the highway of his back, squeezing the dark firm mounds that were his butt. Using a gentle tug, she guided him to her by his butt, leaning back and laying flat to meet the bed. Nick eased his body on top of hers and engaged in kissing her passionately.
What happened next depends on whom you ask. As far as Nick could tell, he was outside of his body. It was as if he were living a dream and watching this incredibly lucky young man make love to this unusually beautiful young woman. His body was on autopilot, coursing, pulsing, and throbbing in ways no undergraduate degree could have instructed him. He was in love for the first time—finally in love!—and he was making love for the very first time. This would be a time he could never possibly forget.
As far as Jasmine could tell, Nick was all there. The man was inside of her, with only a small sheath of rubber separating all of him from all of her. Later on, that would have to change. She wanted to feel him, all of him, and she would someday, she decided. But for now . . . Good God, he felt so good! Jacque had never made love to her like this. Nick combined the right amount of speed and strength with enough change-ups and curveballs to produce an unpredictable, slow and fast rhythmic style of lovemaking. At best, he was physically merging his soul with hers. At worst, they were expressing their love for each other the best way they knew how. To top it all off, they came at the same time—another Jasmine first.
Seeing how it had taken fifty minutes to achieve this minor miracle, they both were knocked out. When Nick would awake later on, he would revel in the fact that he had made love to her so well that she was too tired to want more—a rare female occurrence in his experience. But for now, as he interlocked his naked arms and legs with her arms and legs, male on female, dark on light, Nick was a happy man. This was all he wanted in the world. His “someone” had found him.
Nick woke up first. The light streamed in from outside, the worst of all kinds of light—brilliant, blinding, natural light. Exhausted and still awash in afterglow six hours after the fact, Nick pulled his head back a bit to encompass the totality of the slumbering face that took residence on his chest. She slept so peacefully, he almost did not want to wake her. And what a face, too. From the moment he saw her, Nick knew she had wake-up appeal. The radiant morning light had nothing on Jasmine’s honey-glazed skin. With the back of his hand, Nick caressed her cheek, relishing the evenness of her skin. Not a thought strayed from her. Nick was totally in the moment. That was how he had to know this was nothing short of love.
He grazed her lips with his. This stirred her a bit. She was coming out to play! “Morning, Baby J.”
She fluttered her eyelids in that way people just meeting the day did. A groan escaped her awakening body. “Morning, Babyluv.”
Nick went to give her a real good-morning kiss when she blocked him with her hand over her mouth. “Uh-uh! Morning breath, baby!”
He stared convincingly in her eyes. “I don’t care, Jasmine. I love you, morning breath and all. I’m sure I have it, too. What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then kiss me, you fool.” Nick swiped her hand away and kissed her with as much force and vigor as they were accustomed to. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
In response, Jasmine kissed him back. “Hm. You’re right.” She ran her hands along his face, his hair, all the things about him that were now also her property. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care,” he declared. “We ain’t going nowhere.”
She scrunched up her face. “How do you know I don’t have to do something today?”
Nick suddenly felt like her mother. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was a poor man’s imitation of that bitch. “Do you have something to do?” he asked timidly.
Jasmine unleashed a smile. “No.”
“Then we ain’t going nowhere,” he repeated, smiling. “Baby?”
“Yes, Babyluv.”
“Thank you for coming after me last night. You have no idea how much it means to me.”
“I had no choice. You left.”
“Yes, you did. You know you did, right? That was family. Your mom was beefin’ with me and you were forced to take sides. I’m sorry about that. I’m just glad you came after me. You really love me.”
For that, he was rewarded with a noisy kiss on his forehead. “Yes, I do. I really do. Besides, it wasn’t that tough a call to make.”
“But that’s your moms you walked out on!”
“She was wrong, and you know she was,” Jasmine reasoned. “Parents aren’t infallible. They’re human. And I love you. I had to stand by my man. Would you have done the same thing if your mother had treated me like mine did?”
“My mother would never do something like that.”
“Answer the question. Don’t front,” she directed. “Would you or would you not have come after me if I had walked out on your mom dogging me?”
Nick sighed. “Yes, I would have. That was foul.”
“Yes, it was and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m not proud of what happened there last night. Bottom line is she has no right to try and treat me like I’m still a child and she has no right to tell me how I should feel. I’m me, not her. If I want to fall in love with a fine young don after only knowing him for three weeks, that’s my prerogative. N’est-ce pas?”
“You go, girl!” Nick approved, in an exaggerated ghetto voice.
She snorted a laugh. “What did you think of Nia?”
“Honestly? I’m not on too hot a roll with the rest of your family,” Nick warned.
“Go ahead. I have a feeling I know what you’re going to say about her anyway.”
“Granted this is only a first impression of her, and I don’t really know how she usually is,” Nick qualified.
“Don’t front, Nick. Out with it.”
“I think she’s saditty.”
Jasmine smiled. “That’s it?”
“No. I think she’s saditty, selfish, petty, and a bit vain.”
“All that from just one night? I’m impressed,” Jasmine said. “That’s pretty accurate, I think. Do you think she’s pretty?”
“Of course she is. All three of y’all are pretty ladies.”
“Do you think she’s prettier than me?”
Woo-woo. A loaded question. There was no right answer to this one. If Nick spoke the truth and told her yes, then she would immediately go to the comparison game she had probably been playing all her life with Nia and not be pleased with him. No wonder she had gotten so defensive at the roller rink when she had thought he had been trying to push up on Nia. They both were very attractive but Nia did look better. What could he say? If he said no, it would be an out-and-out lie. So Nick went with the safe answer.
“Her attitude is what turns me off. It makes her not as pretty.”
“You think so?” Jasmine brightened.
He looked at her full of certainty. “Definitely.” A kiss on the nose.
“So what are we going to do today?” Jasmine inquired.
We. Wow. Just like that, the woman had locked them into spending an entire day together. Nick felt thrilled.
“We’re not going anywhere,” vowed Nick. “We both have long weeks ahead of us, and I want to enjoy you while I have you here. With me.”
“Sounds good.”
“Besides, there’s a WNBA game on at three.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You like women’s basketball?”
“Sure. Why not? They play more fundamentally sound basketball, even if most of them can’t dunk. I’m a basketball fan. But I don’t think you hear me, though.”
Sighing as if finding her soulmate could be a reality, she said, “Babyluv, I hear you.” Jasmine squinted past Nick to the hardwood floor. “Is that the remote to the TV there?”
“Yeah. Want me to get it?”
“Please.”
Nick extended himself from his prone position to reach the remote. He handed it to her. “What’re you gonna watch?”
Wordlessly, Jasmine turned on the TV and punched in the numbers for ESPN. SportsCenter came up when the TV turned itself on. Nick was stunned. Right then and there, Nick began to ravage her, to make love to her again. The sportscasters approved.
7
SHE WAS STILL there. It had been the longest time since Nick could remember having made love to somebody and having them around in the morning. Tamara didn’t count. There was a whole different feel after a night of lovemaking—or whatever it was Nick and Asanti had done. That little woman had worn him out. Bally’s had been good to her.
When he looked at her face, Nick was a little disappointed. Not exactly a morning face, that’s for sure. She had tricked him. Little creases and wrinkles and blemishes on her face that were normally hidden under makeup were on grand display. A small price to pay for a full-body workout, Nick decided.
He leaned over to kiss her awake. “Good morning.”
Instantly, she retracted. “No.”
No? Just last night her body had invented new ways to say yes and here she was denying him? Morning sex was the best anyway. Especially on a Sunday when they had time to enjoy it. “Why not?”
“Morning breath,” was her answer. And that was that.
Bored, Nick reached for his remote and turned on the TV. Naturally, ESPN was already on the tube with SportsCenter relaying the late West Coast basketball scores. Again, Asanti stirred, bothered by the TV. “What are you doing?”
“Watching SportsCenter.”
“Must you watch it right now?” she complained.
“Well, you don’t want to come out and play and I’m bored.”
“Turn it to BET.”
“Why? They’re just gonna show them stale old videos they’ve been showing all week. Followed by ten minutes of commercials.”
“C’mon, Nick,” she whined.
Whatever. Nick flipped the remote over to her as he rose from the bed. He walked over to the closet, donned his robe, and left the room in search of food. A half hour later, Asanti was back into her stretch pants and tight T-shirt and on her way out the door. Mumbled something about she had some things to take care of and how she was “grateful” for last night. Grateful. As if Nick had done her a service. She made some vague promise about calling and was out the door in no time. Nick just sat there pitifully, poking at his Rice Chex, feeling like Eddie Murphy in Boomerang after Robin Givens had just used him.
Hope springs eternal, however. In the ferocity of last night, Nick had forgotten about his pseudo-date with Angelica that afternoon. Although it was set up in the wonderfully planned ambiguity initiated by Nick as a necessity for them to “get into character” for their scene, the outing was a thinly veiled swipe at trying to steal the girl right from under her basketball-playing boyfriend. After all, they were going ice skating—Nick’s idea. How many platonic first dates go ice skating? Yet she had agreed. Which meant that she was out there for the taking. Shrugging off the Asanti affair, Nick poured out the remainder of his milk and began to run the water for his shower. Now he was “grateful,” for Asanti’s quick escape.
Today was the last day for ice skating in Chicago. After all, it was the beginning of March. It was a clear day but with bitter, nippy air. Nick met Angelica down at the open-air public rink in Downtown Chicago. Everyone seemed to be there, taking in their last opportunity on the free rink before they shut it down. While admission was free, the skates weren’t, and Nick paid five bucks each for their two pairs of skates.
Angelica, a Chicago-area native, had been ice skating before; Nick had not. The poor man was entirely at the mercy of her assistance. He fell down not once, not twice, but six times. Depending on her as if it would save his life, Nick’s pratfalls garnered her sympathy. The chemistry Nick had sought for their romantic scene was developing.
After a couple of hours, Nick’s behind decided to call it quits. He wobbled over to the side to remove his skates, Angelica right behind him, keeping him steady and upright. Smiling broadly, Angelica sat beside him, removing her skates. This had been a good idea. She had fun.
“You gonna be alright, boy?” she picked.
“Ask my butt, not me,” came Nick’s response. “Thanks for saving it—whatever’s left of it.”
She grinned as she undid her laces. “This was a good idea, Nick.”
Nick concealed a grin of his own. “Think you could like me enough to do the scene now?”
An ambiguous stare. “I think we’ll manage.”
“Let’s run lines,” Nick suggested.
“Alright, boy.”
The two recited their lines to each other as they returned their skates and headed to the train station. On the train, they sat next to each other while repeating their lines over and over. People looked at them like they were having a real conversation, they were so convincing.
Amid the recitation of their lines, something real was happening. That these two knew their lines was not a question. But a connection was forged between them. Not only did Nick say the lines, but he believed them. He dared admit that Angelica was believing them, too. An energy, an unspoken bond, was created between the lines. That chemistry Nick wanted so badly was there, and now that it was there, Nick did not want the date to end.
“Pretty good, Trey,” Nick approved. “We’ve got the lines down. Think we should go over some of the movement in the scene?”
“You mean the blocking?”
“Yeah. Whatever the acting term is.”
Angelica could see that Nick was extending the date. But, in his defense, she was having a good time, he was a good-looking man, and they needed to establish the blocking in the scene that was due Wednesday. Working out blocking would not mean she had cheated on her boyfriend—yet.
“Okay. We can do that. Your place?” She did not want this boy to know where her parents lived, where she usually had Sunday dinner. Nick was cool and all but he was still just a classmate.
“Yeah. My place.” Home court advantage! Nick was giddy like a schoolgirl.
Fullerton was the next stop. Nick guided them from the station back to his apartment. Angelica voiced her admiration of not only the 4Runner parked in the driveway but also of his home. An undergrad Communications major, she was sure not to see these kinds of dollars for a while.
“You’ve got a nice crib here, Nick,” she admired, looking around after her quick tour.
“Thanks. Want anything to drink?” he offered.
“Got any juice?”
“CranGrape.”
“Ooh, good!” she gushed. “Bring me some of that.”
Nick filled two tall tumblers with CranGrape and set them on the living room end table. They arranged themselves casually on the couch and discussed how the scene was set up and some of their ideas. Nick jumped up and rearranged his living room to match the floor plan ideas they had been discussing. They decided the majority of the action would take place on the couch. Then they went into some run-throughs of the scene.
Even in her relaxed Blue Demon athletic gear, his visitor truly was beautiful. Her smooth dark skin looked as clear and consistent as a newly washed blackboard. Angelica was exactly what they were talking about in the phrase “the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice.” She wore braided extensions in her black hair, which was pulled into a ponytail. There was nothing white or aquiline about her nose or her lips, both equally broad, rounded, and attractive. She carried those definitively African traits only a black man could fully love. And as they rehearsed their scene, Nick became intoxicated by them.
Fortunately for him, he had a chance to act upon them. There was a kiss written in the script for the scene. Nick was aware that there were ways to kiss and ways not to kiss onstage. Their instructor had not demonstrated stage kissing for them but Nick could tell from the movies he had seen. When the time came in the scene for Nick to kiss the girl, Nick acted so wrong, it had to be right.
