Derrick

“Damn you and your seductive kisses,” she says, pushing her hands against me to put distance between us. “We can’t do this.”

“We just did.” Moving in again, I whisper, “Now let’s do it again.”

“No, Derrick.”

But I see the smile that belies her words. She liked that kiss. I loved it. I lo—nope. Not going there. I steal another quick kiss and leave before she gets in trouble. The gasp is heard as I walk away. “Damn you,” she whisper yells.

I can only imagine she’s shaking her little fists me. Turning back, I have to see her. She was always incredibly sexy when she was mad. If she was mad at me that meant one thing—make-up sex. Fuck. She was a vixen in the sheets.

“You’re impossible,” she adds, full volume.

“See you around, babe.”

I pass Leah, and cock a smirk with my nod. She says, “Byyye.”

The salesman opens the door and says, “If you’re ever in the market for a quality used car, Mr. Masters, let me know. My name’s Jose.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

My alarm chirps and I open the driver’s door. Slipping into the sleek leather seat, I start the car, and back out before that ball of fucking sexy fire makes its way outside. I like her feisty. That means she won’t give up. It also means I’ll get another shot at wooing that woman. Yep, I said woo. Now that I know what I’m missing, I don’t want to miss anymore. It’s as if just from my lips touching hers, that I can forgive how quickly she was with Reggie. How quickly she moved on. How much I want her still.

This car dealership is a long way from the Hollywood Hills, but I don’t even make it five minutes before I get a call. I don’t recognize the number, but I’m glad I don’t send it to voicemail once I hear Jayme’s voice ring out through the speakers. “You’re a bastard, you know that, Derrick?”

“I do. I also remember how much you loved it.”

“Your rebel ways. You still got that tattoo?” She sounds mighty pleased with that zinger. Bringing up sore subjects is used like ammo for her defensiveness.

“Come over and find out.”

She laughs, annoyance in every note. “Like I said, impossible.”

“Let’s make possible together.”

“Do you ever give up?”

“You know me, right?”

“Right. Stupid me. I almost forgot who I was talking to.”

“Speaking of me, come over.”

A loud sigh punctuates the debate I know she’s having, probably sitting at that messy desk of hers with the ancient computer sputtering shit she doesn’t even care about in front of her. But the fun we were having seems to dissipate and her voice goes quieter, “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Again with the sorrys. When did our conversations just become a bunch of apologies? No, don’t answer that. I have a feeling I don’t want to know the truth.”

“There’s lots you don’t want to know, so we need to make this goodbye for good.”

“So a goodbye versus a bad bye. That’s progress, I think.”

“No, they both end the same with bye.”

“Wait,” the word rushes out. She doesn’t hang up. Thank God. Her breath remains light as it dances through the line. “I leave in four days. Please. Come over. I just want to see you again. I won’t even ask how you got my number . . . though I’m curious.” She hmms. So I continue, “You said whatever this is between us can’t turn into more. You, yourself, admitted not only is there something here, but it could be more. Come explore that more, baby.”

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

“I know, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I’m not giving up. One date.”

“Now it’s a date you want?”

“I want more,” I say, chuckling. “But how about we start with a date.”

“Your honesty is almost endearing.”

I laugh. “The girls got jokes.”

“Not many these days. Look—”

Taking a left, I’m already onto her emotional tides that change her mind. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m asking you, Jaymes, for your time. Just a little. One-on-one without interruption. We’ll walk away putting this, whatever it is between us, to bed, or maybe it will turn into seeing each other again. I don’t know. I just know it feels good being around you again.”

“It does,” she admits, which feels like a victory of epic proportions.

“One meal. One date. One hour of your time?”

“Okay. But will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Are you that ashamed of me?” I tease.

Finally a laugh, and it’s the sweetest music to my ears. I’m tempted to record it and listen to it on replay or drop it into a song. “Not at all. It’s complicated, like I said. I don’t want anything affecting Ace in anyway.”

“My lips are sealed unless you want to make out and then I’ll totally give it up for ya.”

“Like I said, you’re impossible. I’ve got to get back to work before I’m fired.”

“How’s tomorrow night at seven?”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“You know it.”

“So if I hang up now, you’re gonna bug me about this, aren’t you?”

“I’ll text you my address and see you at seven.”

The silence starts to extend. I can imagine her face, pursed lips, brows pushed toward the middle. Then resolve. “Eight works better.”

Gotcha! “Eight it is.”

“Fine. Oh, and my mother gave me the number. She programmed it into my phone after spending time with Diane. I think the moms are conspiring to get us together.”

“There could be worse things.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

It’s probably best to hang up before she changes her mind. “See you tomorrow, baby.”

“Stop calling me that, Derrick.”

“Habit, baby.” Not sorry. I know how she used to love when I called her that.

I don’t have to see her to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Tomorrow, Romeo.”

---

What constitutes overboard? When it comes to ordering food, I don’t know what Jaymes likes anymore. She used to love Mexican food. What if she loves Chinese or Japanese or Italian? Thai? Mongolian? Fuck. American?

“It’s too much,” my mom says looking at the delivery bags.

“Help me,” I reply.

A smile tickles her lips. “You like her.”

“I used to love her. Of course I like her.” I push the Chinese food down the kitchen counter. “I think we’ll eliminate this one. Your turn.”

She grabs the Italian. “I’ll take this one with me.”

“Dude. Not the Italian. I ordered the spinach manicotti. Do you know how amazing their manicotti is?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head, “but I look forward to finding out.”

“Take it. Take the Japanese too. I have a feeling the woman is similar to the girl. I’m going with the cheese enchiladas, rice, and beans.”

“You can’t go wrong with that.”

“Fingers crossed. So, wine or beer?”

“Wine. I brought two bottles of white. Perfect for Mexican.”

“I was thinking tequila.”

Her glare hits hard. “No tequila.”

“I reach for the bottle of Patron. “What’s one shot?”

“Trouble, that’s what. No tequila, Derrick. I want you on your best behavior.”

“No one ever complains about my behavior when it comes to dating.”

“I’m your mother. I don’t want to hear about your so-called dating. And this is Jaymes. Remember that.”

She puts the Chinese and Japanese food in the fridge and takes the Italian. “I’m going. You be good.” Her finger goes up. “Don’t reply to that.”

I laugh. “Be safe driving home.”

“I want some details tomorrow.”

She knows me too well. Hearing about sex when it comes to her son’s activities is not something she wants the gory details on, so I always edit, edit, edit for her. In the last two years though, nothing . . . or should I say no one has even been worth mentioning much less edit-worthy.

Maybe tonight will change all that.

---

She’s late, but it’s LA, so instead of giving her a hard time, I give her a pass. I also receive two texts when she enters the neighborhood that went a little like: You’re kidding me, right? And then another that said, Really?

Hope she likes the house.

The doorbell chimes and I wipe my hands on a dishtowel and run to answer it while tucking the edge of the towel into my jeans. When I swing the door open, I about choke on the comment I had prepared to welcome her with, but I manage. “You take this hot for the teacher thing to a whole new level.”

A quick roll of her eyes and she says, “I went from work to class. I didn’t have time to go home and change.”

“Glad you didn’t. Come on in.”

“Nice towel by the way.”

“Thanks. My mom gave it to me as a housewarming present.”

She’s scanning the entryway and beyond into the living room. “This house is the most amazing house I’ve ever been in.”

“It’s not all that fancy, but I like it.”

“You live in the Hollywood Hills. It’s fancy, all right.”

I take her bag and set it on the table in the entryway. Taking her hand this time, I lead her through the living room and into the kitchen. When we’re well within the confines of the room, and time when it would be perfectly acceptable for her to release my hand or vice versa, neither of us does. We stand there in front of the oven, and she asks, “You cooked for me?”

“No. But I bought it and can reheat like nobody’s business.”

There’s that smile that makes me want to commit a crime or at least a sin worth confessing every time I see it. I pour her a glass of wine and I toast, “To feeling like old times.” One clink and we both drink.

She leans against the counter and asks, “What’s it like to not worry about money? And to live in a place like this?”

It’s hard not to feel guilty when you’re living in a castle compared to the shacks you grew up in. “It feels like what we dreamed about.”

Taking another sip, she says, “I bet it’s wonderful.”

“Where’s Ace tonight?”

“With my mom. Sometimes he’ll stay with her if I’m out late.”

“Are you out late often?”

“I’m not seeing anyone if that’s what you’re asking. I have school, work, and Ace. That’s enough.” She walks around the bar and sits on a stool. “I’m not trying to ruin dinner but I need to be open with you. If you want me to go, I will without question. I understand that most men won’t want to take on my mess.

“Do we need tequila for this?” I half-joke.

“We might.” She swirls the wine around in her glass, then looks at me. “You know Reggie is Ace’s father, right?”

“I didn’t know for sure, but I assumed.”

“It wasn’t planned.”

“I hope not since I had just left.”

The wine settles in the glass and she closes her eyes briefly. When they reopen she says, “I’ve apologized for a lot of things, but I won’t ever apologize for Ace.

“I would never want you to. Years ago I made the best and worst decisions of my life. I’m still paying the price for losing you.”

“Reaping the rewards of leaving me.”

“You told me to go.”

“I lied. That was the worst decision I made and it’s one I’ve had to live with for years.

“How about we clean our slates and start over?”

She smiles. “I’d like that, but I also think you might have questions. Hit me with them now.”

“Do you love him?”

“No. I never did.”

She never loved him but had sex with him. “Were you ever a couple?”

“Nope.” She sips her wine. “You’re circling around that night, so I might as well tell you that it was only one time. Ace was just determined to exist.”

“Why was it only one time?”

“We’re not on good terms. Tumultuous is the only word that comes to mind right now when I think of him.”

“Does he help with Ace at all?”

I think my line of questioning is making her uncomfortable. I’m sure it is, so I stop. She shifts and finishes the wine in her glass. “I have a confession, Derrick.”

Resting my hands on the counter in front of her, I ask, “Sure you want to share more?”

“Let’s blame it on the wine.”

“Okay.”

Biting her lip, she inwardly debates, but when our eyes connect, she confesses, “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”

I reach out and take her hand, holding it in mine as I savor her admission. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.” I never knew how much I needed to hear those words. It had hurt when I found out she’d been with Reggie. I can tell I don’t know all the details, and probably it’s better I never do.

But those words? Knowing she’s never loved anyone but me? It’s as if a switch has been turned on. I know with absolute certainty that I’m the same. She’s the only one I’ve ever loved. We used to complete each other, but having her in this house, knowing where she lives and the life she struggles in daily, I know she feels the disparity of all things material. But she has Ace, and I can tell the love she has for him sustains and pushes her. You’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, Jaymes.

Maybe by the end of dinner, I’ll confess my secret too.