Thursday: 10:10 P. M.
-----------------------------------
"OK, what and what yuh don't eat?"
I shift my body, easing up slightly to pull the pillow under my chin. "I'm more of a junk food person, but, I'm willing to try anything new, I guess."
"OK, so--"
"Hold on one second deh, Meely," I tell Dameel as I feel the phone vibrate against my ear.
We'd been on the phone talking all night --well, for about fifteen, twenty minutes or so--about food. He'd promised to cook for me, some time ago, and he wants to honour that promise, this weekend.
I agreed. After all, we'd had so much fun on our last date, so I don't think this should be much different.
Biting my nail, I remove the phone from my ear and look at the WhatsApp icon at the top of the screen. Pulling down the notification bar, I see that Lucas has finally responded to my text message from earlier.
His response makes my heart flutter.
LUCAS ❤️: Good. Have you eaten?
Aw...!
"You OK?" Dameel's voice draws me out of the trance-like state I'm in.
I wouldn't have even realized I'd been cheesing so hard, had it not been for the dull ache in my cheeks.
I clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm here. But, sorry, can I call you back later? I have to go do something."
Look how yawh dash weh the man because Such Man text yuh ee.
Suppose him never did reply?
"Um, yea...sure...I guess," he answers. "Is everything good though?"
The concern is evident in his voice.
I kinda feel bad.
I smile nonetheless. "Yeah, just forgot to do something since night, and I just remembered."
Lie.
Lie.
Lie!
"Oh. Ah. Then it's tomorrow then."
"No! Why? I'll call you back..." Maybe.
He chuckles. "Smikle, mi and you know yuh not calling me back. The only way yuh will maybe call me back is if you can't sleep."
Listen to the man a read out mi file to John Public!
Smiling at the thought, I say, "Are you saying I'm using you, Mr. Henderson?"
"Damn straight!"
I gasp.
Dameel laughs again. I always loved the way he laughs. "But it's all good, though. I rather to be used and abused by a beautiful woman, any day."
This makes me blush.
As well as feel slightly guilty.
Especially about the fact that he seems to genuinely like me, but I see him as more of a cool guy who I can be genuine friends with.
Worse mi have a mad man weh claim say him willing fi fuck up any man weh come near mi.
And, for some reason, I believe him.
Although, it's not like I'm interested in any other man but him, anyways.
One man to mi goodie, and a Lukey...!
Speaking of the old crawses man...
With the phone still on speaker mode, I click on Lucas' text.
ME: No. I'm on a diet.
Lucas' response comes in much more quickly this time.
LUCAS ❤️: Kmt. So that make yuh nuh eat from evening, Amanda?
ME: I wasn't hungry, Luke.
LUCAS ❤️: Or yuh mean yuh just too lazy fi go look sum'n cook.
No man, it look like mi deh pon trial tonight. Everybody have access to mi files.
I can sense his tone through the text.
"Alright, it seems like mi a disturb yuh. Good night, Princess."
My heart skips a beat at the sound of Dameel's voice. Jesus, why did I forget that the man was still on the line?
Blushing deeply, I clear my throat. "Um, sorry, Beb, I got distracted. Good night."
The line disconnects shortly afterwards, and I sigh.
LUCAS ❤️: Yuh see any day gas fuck yuh up, lady. Stay deh see food and nuh nyam it.
My mind drifts to my half-emptied cupboards and equally-as-empty fridge, and I sigh.
ME: If I don't have anything to prepare, what do you want me to do, sir?
LUCAS ❤️: What yuh mean you have nothing to prepare?
Chewing on my bottom lip, I contemplate whether or not I should say it. After all, what's he gonna do about it anyways?
I decide to tell him anyways.
ME: My house is almost empty. No groceries. And I won't get to go shopping til this weekend.
Hopefully, before I meet up with Dameel.
Lucas types and stops. Then starts typing again.
LUCAS ❤️: Ah. Zeen. Yuh hungry now right?
I don't know if that's what I expected him to say. It makes me slightly nervous.
If I tell him, what's he gonna do?
Come over?
A part of me is curious to know. So, I reply truthfully.
ME: Kinda.
LUCAS ❤️: What do you feel for then?
ME: I don't know. But it doesn't matter because how am I gonna get it at this hour? 👀
I look at the time. It's almost 11 P.M.
LUCAS ❤️: Let me worry about that. Answer the question as how I ask it.
I'm kicking and screaming, in my head right now.
ME: No sah, that a too much stress fi you now.
LUCAS ❤️: Amanda.
I sigh. Fine.
I could use a warm cinnamon bun from Taff's Cafe. As well as a Starbucks--but them already lock, or a K. F. C. Zinger big box.
So, I tell him that.
As much as I know he's probably fuming when he saw the K.F.C on the list, he responds with:
LUCAS ❤️: Ah. Give me 30 minutes tops fi reach a yuh foot.
And look how me think a delivery service the man did ago say him a send come.
Jesus, mi waan fling weh mi phone!
ME: OK. 🙃
As soon as I send the text, the time of his 'last seen' pops up signalling he's no longer online.
With a feeling of intense anticipation, I roll over, unto my back, and squeal so loudly it echoes around me.
I don't understand the feeling, but I feel like a giddy school girl eagerly anticipating her little boyfriend coming over to look for her, in the middle of the night.
I haven't felt this way in years.
Keeping the smile on my face, I scroll back up to the top of the conversation, deciding to read it again.
When I'm satisfied with the amount of times I've read through the messages in the chat, I spring to my feet and head to the bathroom to freshen up.
. . .
It's about one hour later when I hear a soft knock at my door.
Tossing my phone to the side, I stand, adjusting the hem of my white strapless blouse, which barely reaches above the waistband of the deep red booty shorts I'm wearing, thus, leaving a portion of my belly exposed.
I open the door to Lucas leaning on the rail, just outside my door, decked in a fitted black sweatpants and matching hoodie with the hood drawn over his head.
His head is down; eyes buried in his phone.
His whole presence brings a smile to my lips.
"Hey," I say, drawing his attention over to me.
His eyes rake over my body, before coming to settle on my face.
He wrinkles his nose and steps forward. "Sorry I took so long. But Taff's was locked so I had to go to three different places to get the Cinnamon bun. And that's after wasting minutes in K.F.C. drive-thru."
Aw!
"Jesus, three?" I say, not even trying to mask the surprise in my tone. "Yuh never did affi stress out yuhself so, why yuh never leave it?"
He frowns. "Because you said you wanted it."
Jeezam!
I know my face is beet red right now, but I smile and step forward, opening the door further for him to pass, saying, "Aw, that's so sweet of you, Mr. Senior."
He folds his lips but I can tell he's dying to smile.
Love act tough yussi.
"That a the least," he finally says, outstretching the hand with the bags in it, towards me when he steps inside the room.
He flinches when I grab his hand, in my attempt to take the bag from him, making me furrow my brows when I take hold of the bag and lift his hand up to my face to see why. "What happened to your hand?"
His knuckles, on his right hand, are nastily bruised and swollen.
His face looks pained, but he shrugs. "I fucked it up on a punching bag."
Then if him do him owna hand so pon a punching bag, weh nuh have no feelings, imagine if it were someone's face?
No sah.
Shaking my head, pushing the sunken feeling aside, I tell him, "Yuh full a too much aggression a that."
My comment causes a low chuckle to leave his lips.
His reaction makes me smile, in return.
"Come let me see it," I tell him, letting his hand go long enough to close the door behind us, before reaching for it again.
Lucas follows behind me, as I lead him, by the hand, over to the sink.
I can feel him watching me when I release his grip, once more, and open the fridge, pulling out two ice trays from the freezer.
Dumping the contents into a clean dish towel, I tie the knot to form my own homemade ice pack.
I motion with my head for the man leaning casually against my kitchen island to outstretch his hand.
Lucas watches me, intently, as I gently grasp his hand and bring the cold cloth to rest atop his swollen knuckles.
-----------------------------
LUCAS P. O. V.
-----------------------------
Her face is soft and her eyes, filled with care, focused on the task at hand --tenderly applying the ice pack to my wounded hand.
With an amused smile on my lips, I stare at her through narrowed eyes.
Noting especially how hard her nipples are as they press against the thin fabric of her blouse. Her nipple rings are obvious too, making me do a double take.
She has started wearing them again...interesting.
She'd told me some time ago that her nipples were pierced, but it's the first I'm seeing her actually sporting the rings.
My dick twitches in my sweatpants, despite myself.
As if sensing me staring, she looks up at me and smiles bashfully. "You have to be more careful at the gym eno, big man."
She then adds, "Can't have you hurting yourself like this."
If only she knew how I really got to hurt myself, she probably blow a fucking fuse.
I don't regret it though.
It was certainly worth it.
I chuckle but break our stare. My eyes land on the bags on the counter and I quirk a brow. "The food is going cold."
Without looking away from my hand, she goes, "That can wait."
Eeeh?
Then this serious.
'Cause Amanda nuh ramp when it comes to fucking up her food.
"So yuh nuh hungry again?" I tease.
She finally looks up and the look in her eyes makes my heart leap, while my cock head jumps. "This is more important, right now."
Fuck.
Hearing her say so does something to me.
I can't explain what exactly it is though.
I pretend to be unaffected by something as simple as her holding my gaze, when I say, "You need to eat, baby girl."
She blushes but quickly holds her head down so I can't see her face anymore. "And you need your hands."
Touché.
I smirk. "Why do I feel there's another meaning behind that statement so, Ms. Smikle?"
Her expression matches mine when she answers with a coy, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr. Senior."
Mi waan put sum'n else, someweh else...
This makes me laugh.
And so does she.
When we both sober up, she says, a bit more seriously, "Does it hurt?"
I know what she's referring to, but I can't help but push the conversation along saying, "Does what hurt?"
I can think of a lot of things that are hurting, at the moment.
My dick being one of them.
Amanda peers up at me through her lashes. "Your hand."
Ah, yes, that...
It did.
Not so much now, thanks to her.
"Not anymore," I tell her truthfully.
Her only response is a pleased smile and a nod.
I must say, though, that having her tend to me in this manner feels really fucking good.
After so many weeks apart, having her this close to me sends me way down memory lane. It feels good being this close to her, without fear, or hesitancy, and it took us just hugging each other for hours, the other night, to remind me how much I really missed this.
Missed her.
Missed us.
Trying not to dwell on it, I push the thought to the back of my mind.
Cyaa too dwell pon that right now.
Affi sort out my affairs first.
But, nuh worry yuhself.
In due time.
After about a minute or so more, Amanda releases my hand and wipes her hand in her way-too-short shorts. "Well, that should be good. I wish I had one of those bandage thingies to wrap it in."
I flex my fingers, appreciating the absense of the pain that was there earlier. "Thanks. But, mi a soldier, mi will tough it out."
She smiles, shaking her head. "You're welcome. You would've done the same for me."
Hearing her say that brings a genuine smile to my lips.
I'm glad to know she at least appreciates my efforts.
Taking a seat around the island, I watch as she walks over to the counter and starts unpacking the food, taking her own sweet time unwrapping each packaging.
My smile spreads when she takes out the last brown paper bag and sticks her hand inside, pulling out the two large containers.
Her eyes light up. "What's this?"
I'd not only bought her her desired choices, but also a seafood boil dish --similar to mine, from one of my favourite little seafood spot.
I'd made her try it once before, in the past, so I know she likes it.
I pick at the strands of my beard where it itches. "What does it look like?"
She rolls her eyes at my question. "I know what it is but whose is it, yours?"
I smirk. "Ours."
She squeals.
It causes me to chuckle lowly. "Easy deh killa. Everybody done know yawh Foodie."
Amanda scoffs, picks up a plastic fork and throws it at me. And, of course, I dodge it, effortlessly.
"Shut up man," she says, rolling her eyes again. But, I can tell she's amused.
"Yuh hand lean like."
"Mi glad yuh know."
The corner of my lip curls into a lopsided grin. "Cyaa give yuh nuh gun fi buss then..."
Her head snaps to me. She looks at me for a few good seconds, before smirking. "Give mi and see if it nuh buss nuh."
"Eeeeh, weh yuh say, a you name Killer Miller?"
She flips me her middle finger, and I laugh.
I wait for her to set the food before us, before pulling out a stool of her own and taking a seat.
"Yuh know say mi shouldn't a eat them hours here though," she says, opening the container and sticking her fork in. "Yuh see how mi fat?"
Waan fat yuh up the right way.
I look at her. She's so sexy and the little shorts she's wearing does wonders. "Mi see how yuh fat up yes. Tha likkle shorts deh fit yuh, too."
She blushes, but stuffs a mouthful of shrimp into her mouth to conceal it. "Shut up."
I don't lose the teasing smirk when I say, "Come mek mi see it up close."
Though I'd much rather she takes it off. Jah know.
Amanda stuffs another forkful of food in her mouth, licking the extra sauce from her lips. I use that as an excuse to stare at her lips. So plump. So pink. So juicy.
I clear my throat, trying to ignore the fact that I'm getting more and more aroused.
The more I think on it, the more I'll be tempted to act on the feeling.
And, I don't want to do anything rash.
"I have work in the morning," she tells me.
So?
I quirk a brow. "What does that have to do with me wanting to see your shorts, Amanda?"
"You and I both know you don't care about any shorts..."
"Weh yah try say? You a mind reader now?"
"Alright." She stands.
With an amused smile on my face, I watch her do a stush 360 degrees turn.
Her ass jiggles as she does.
I chuckle. "So why yawh stay so wide?"
She stops and grins. "'Cause mi know yuh!"
Eeeh? I hold my hands up surrender style. "I'm no threat."
A look passes over her facial features, before she finally takes a step towards me. Albeit quite hesitantly.
When she stands in front me, I reach over and grip the strings hanging from the waist of her shorts and pull her closer to me.
Slipping my hands around her waist, I look down at her nestled in my arms. "See...you're safe."
She peers up at me, and I take the opportunity to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.
Our mouths move in sync, and before we know it, Amanda and I are locked in an intense make-out session.
The blood rushes to my dick and I can't ignore it this time when it stiffens in my pants. The desire urges me to deepen the kiss, gripping her ass and pulling her even closer to my body.
It feels so fucking good having her body press up against mine like this.
Her body is soft, and warm, and... squishy.
Damn.
Believe me when I say I'm fighting not to bend her over this counter and fuck her senseless, right now.
But, I won't.
It would only complicate things.
Just like it had the last time I'd surrendered to the fucking voice in my head telling me to do just that.
It takes us a couple minutes before we pull apart, breathless and panting. I smile and plant a kiss on her forehead.
"I told you you didn't want to see any shorts," she says. Her cheeks tinge red.
Tightening my arms around her waist, I say, "I'd want to see something else, but you're gonna run me if I tell you what that is."
"I have work in the morning, Luke."
I nod. "That's fine."
I don't want her doing anything she's uncomfortable with, anyhow.
Plus, I'm tired. I've had a long day, after all.
I tell her just that.
"If it's of any consolation, I got back my car today." She smiles at me, shyly. "So mi naffi bother yuh another morning fi carry mi go work."
And yuh naffi pop a blood vessel every time yuh hear this Shane bredda name...
"I saw," I say. "And, it's never a bother."
Especially if it means stopping another man from come 'bout ya.
She yawns and I peer down at her as she rubs her eyes. "Hungry still?"
She hadn't eaten much of the food because of me.
Shaking her head, she tells me, "I'm sleepy."
Twisting my wrist, I look at the time. It's eight minutes past midnight. Fuck, a so time a fly?
With a mischievous grin, I tell her, "Then nuh must...it's way past your bedtime."
I flinch as I feel her cold hands sneek under my sweater, laying flat against the skin of my sides.
She giggles. "I know. But, it's surprising that I want to sleep though. Usually I'd be tossing and turning, fighting to sleep."
I quirk a brow. "How comes?"
She sighs. "I don't know. I guess I still haven't gotten used to sleeping alone. Or, it's probably because I'm stressed."
"Have you tried taking anything for it?"
"Yeah. I've tried taking sleeping pills, but nothing works. NyQuil was the only thing that worked for a while, but even that isn't as effective anymore. So..."
Her comment makes me a bit worried.
I hate that she's having troubles sleeping.
Especially since I can't do anything about it.
Clearing my throat, to conceal the concern in my tone, I say, "Want me to spend the night then?"
I remember her saying, some time ago, that she sleeps better when I'm with her.
Her head snaps up to face me and a look I can't quite describe passes over her face. "If you want to."
"What do you want, Amanda?"
"I want you to stay."
I kiss her on her nose. "Good."
***
-----------------------------
AMANDA'S P.O.V.
-----------------------------
"I still think you should eat something," Lucas tells me as I pack up the remaining portion of the food I'd been eating.
He, on the other hand, hadn't even touched his.
I really do feel a bit hungry still, to be honest, but it's way too late to be eating now.
Especially considering the type of food. Tavia would have a fit if she saw me eating all this 'Junk' as she'd call it.
"It's too late now, man. I'll just have it for breakfast in the morning, if anything."
"So you'd rather to starve."
I sigh. I know he's just being caring, but damn...
"Not really. It's just that I kinda wanted to change up my diet a bit," I say, "especially since I started gym."
He crosses his arms, and furrow his brows. "Which gym that?"
Hear yah now...
Waiting until I put the food in the fridge and walk back to where he's sitting on the stool, watching my every move like a hawk, I say, "Ambrosia. It's a wellness spa and--"
"The fuck yawh do desso, Amanda?" Lucas' venomous sneers cuts me off, catching me off guard.
I'm taken aback by his tone which stops me in my tracks. My eyes widen. I also know the confusion I feel is evident on my face when I say, "What?"
The heck!
"What are you doing there? A that mi ask yuh." He fixes me with a glare: his eyes lidded and his lips twisted in an angry scowl.
I match his expression with a sassy one of my own, feeling fucking annoyed. And look how the night start off good. "Yuh nuh easy! Wah people do a gym, Lucas?"
"So out of every gym in Kingston, yawh tell mi say that's the only one you could find?"
No man this a get from bad to worse.
His remark irritates me. I hiss my teeth in response. "Yuh know say mi tired of this though!"
He grinds his teeth, planting one foot flat on the ground while the other remains propped up on the stool. "Tired of what?"
"You policing my every move," I hiss, not even caring if he gets upset, for once. "I'm not a fucking child, Lucas. It a annoy mi now."
He chuckles dryly. "Amanda mek mi tell yuh this, and mi want yuh listen good. Yuh see tha bwoy deh weh own that gym deh--"
Of course that's the damn reason.
Jealousy.
Mi waan know if a so him plan fi be jealous of every single man weh breathe air 'round mi!
Like say him think mi a some loose gyal or sum'n...
"Mi nuh waan hear nuttn, Lucas!" I cut him off with a hiss, swatting his hand, that he has pointed at me, away, and turning to walk back towards the fridge.
"Hey, easy yuh fucking self!" he sneers, springing from the stool and gripping me by my neck, pulling me back to face him.
His eyes are blazing and his nostrils flared.
In this very moment he looks so fucking deadly, it sends goosebumps swarming my entire skin.
I swallow hard at the same time that my eyes buldge.
Usually, getting under his skin like this would turn me on so fast, but not tonight.
It's the first I'm seeing him react this way.
It scares me.
Through teary eyes, I watch his face soften slightly before he visibly exhales and relaxes his grip on my neck.
"Yuh know wah, mek mi cut leff yuh place, eno." He lets me go, lifting his hand and running it through his hair. "Do anything weh yuh waan bloodclaat do."
My throat burns, but I'm too shocked to move.
Lucas then pats his pockets, to confirm that he has his keys, I'm assuming, then picks up the phone from the counter and slides it into his sweater pocket.
Without as much as a second glance, he turns and heads through the front door, slamming it shut in his wake.
I stand stock-still, even when the sound of his car's engine roaring to life meets my eardrum.
I remain in that same state even when I'm sure I no longer hear the sound of the vehicle pulling through the gates.
My mind is racing, but I can't seem to focus on anything long enough to process the thought properly.
A few minutes pass before I'm able to collect myself, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.
My heart is drumming in my chest like crazy.
The sound is almost maddening.
Without bothering to check if any of the food left on the counter is capable of staying overnight, I turn and head to my bedroom.
As soon as my body hits the bed, the tears start flowing uncontrollably.
I don't know if it's the shock or what, but I can't seem to stop the waterworks.
My mind flashes to Lucas and the way he'd behaved earlier, causing my temper to rise.
I angrily swat at the tears streaming down my cheeks.
All a this over me joining a frigging gym?
No man! I'm fed up with this shit.
Him a act like say mi ano mi own big woman. He needs to know he doesn't own me.
I'm not his toy.
A fucking puppet he can control.
Wah him waan mi fi do? Cut leff the gym just because he says so?
I scoff at the thought.
The more I think about it all, the angrier I get.
With a loud hiss of my teeth, I turn onto my side and cradle my pillow; willing myself to sleep.
***
FRIDAY: 6:00 P.M.
-----------------------------
"Yawh come, Smikle?" Aisha asks as we reach the parking lot.
I toss my gym bag onto the passenger seat and turn to smile at her and Andre who are standing a few feet away from where I'm parked.
They'd planned on going to chill out a bit, since it's a Friday evening, and want to know if I'm coming with them.
I sigh, shaking my head. "No sah, Aish. Mi tired yawh man."
Plus, I'm not in the mood.
I'm still in my feelings over what happened with Lucas, last night, worse I haven't heard from him since day.
I don't know why on earth I'd expected to hear from him though, but I did.
She smiles, stepping closer to me and pulling me in for a hug. We'd gotten close in the few weeks since I've started this gym. "Alright. Next week then, mi woman."
Her comment brings a small smile to my lips.
My eyes fleet over her shoulders, and my body goes rigid as they follow the steps of a woman walking up the stairs, chatting and laughing at whatever conversation she's having on her phone.
She's dressed in a knee-length, tight-fitted black dress that highlights her very obviously designer body.
Our eyes make four, and her smile immediately drops at the same time that my blood runs cold.
As if sensing my body's reaction, Aisha pulls away and follows my stare, before turning back to face me, saying, "A wah?"
The woman, in the distance, averts her gaze, focusing instead on climbing the stairs, holding onto the rail to help guide her steps since she's wearing stiletto heels.
I clear my throat. "Nothing. Just thought that woman looked familiar."
Aisha adjusts the straps of her gym bag that's draped over her shoulder. She looks towards the stairs again as the woman's back disappears out of our view. "Who? Shantae?"
I quirk a brow. "Mi nuh know if a so she name. But, she looks like someone I've seen before."
Aisha giggles. "Possibly. She comes here all the time. She's Romario's sister. I think they own the entire center together."
Oh.
I nod but remain silent.
I don't recall seeing her here before, but, if I'm not mistaken, she looks dead stamp like the girl I met that time at DJ's party.
I'm almost certain.
However vague the memory of that night may be.
"Mhm." I kick off my sneakers and throw them onto the back seat. "Anyways yawh, Aisha, later."
"Aii." She nods and gives me a small wave, jogging off to catch up with Andre who'd gone ahead.
When I pull the door close and successfully strap on my seat belt, I take one last look at the direction the woman went, before backing out of the parking lot and pulling through the gates.
My mind rests on her even as I pull into the rush hour traffic along Constant Spring Road.
Shantae.
Why doesn't that name sound familiar?
Yet, I feel like it should.
Hmm.
I don't know why, but, despite her been all the way on the other side of the premises, her entire presence was unsettling.
I can't explain the feeling, but it was as if my body was sending my brain the warning to stay far away.
Not like I even know the girl, much less.
I sigh, pushing the thought behind me.
Maybe I'm just overreacting.
It certainly wouldn't be a first.
Oh well.
Deciding to lighten the mood a bit, I connect my phone to the stereo and buck the volume, singing along to tune after tune streaming from my latest play list.
T. G. I. F --Thank God it's Friday!