Chapter Twenty-One

Big-Girl Panties

With my hands twisting the leather of my steering wheel, I followed Jucee home, trying and failing to tamp down the rambunctious gaggle of nerves taking up residence in my belly. She had been so quiet at the gym, and that was so unlike her, that I couldn’t help but think the worst. Her eyes were as expressive as always, but I needed to hear her voice, and it felt calculated when she kept it from me.

Parking beside her in the lot, I trailed her up the stairs and inside her apartment. She didn’t say a word as she toed out of her shoes and headed toward her bedroom, unaware that I watched her the whole time. When she disappeared down the hallway, I sighed and headed into the tiny kitchen, setting the bag of cookies onto the counter before crouching down and making some room on the lowest shelf in the refrigerator so I could place the bouquet of fruit on a stick inside to prevent spoilage.

Since I couldn’t do what I wanted to do after I finished that task, I shuffled into the living area and plopped down onto the couch, my hand on my right knee in a failed attempt to cull the bouncing that had begun as soon as I tried not to think about the things we’d done the last time we were in a bedroom together. It didn’t work, of course; I was failing at a lot of things these days.

I’d wanted to follow Jucee into her bedroom and push her onto the bed.

I wanted to climb over her, kiss her neck, and then her lips, and then her other lips until she forgave me and we were able to move forward and be together.

I wanted that so bad I could already taste her on my tongue.

But I couldn’t do that; I wouldn’t.

Because the sex with us was so perfect—so easy—and was often the palate cleanser at the end of whatever disagreement we had, I think Jucee thought that I used sex to manipulate her. I mean, she never told me no for anything after I gave her a screaming orgasm, but that was never my intention. I didn’t want that to be the go-to whenever we had problems, but I couldn’t deny that it worked in my favor more often than not. It wasn’t on purpose and I didn’t want to handle this with her the way I handled everything else with everyone else, because Jucee wasn’t like anyone else.

She wasn’t just my best friend, she was my heart. And because there was no way that I could lose a piece of my heart and continue to live as a whole person, I needed to make sure that everything was okay between us. Better than okay, actually. I needed to fix what I’d broken, and repair it in a way that made sure it never broke again.

The moment that she appeared, I jumped to my feet and started to head her way on instinct, but when she twisted her lips to the side and nervously rubbed her hands on her thighs, I stopped midstep. I’d been about to pull her into my arms and kiss on her, but I wasn’t sure if I could—or even should—do that anymore, or at least right now. So, I stood there awkwardly for a moment, willing her to come over to me, to hug me and kiss me and give me some affection.

She didn’t do any of that, of course, because we weren’t in a good place. I’d fucked up and I had to fix it for any of that to become my reality again. When she dropped her eyes from mine, I swallowed down the hurt and moved over to the foyer with my keys in one hand and my other fist shoved deep into my pocket. I needed something to occupy me so that I didn’t grab for her.

Jucee grabbed her purse off the couch and met me at the door.

“You ready?” I asked, even though she stood right in front of me looking more than ready, and maybe just as nervous as I was.

Instead of giving me the skeptical look my obvious question likely deserved, she nodded and opened the door. “Yeah. Let’s go, I’m starving.”

The walk to my truck was a quiet one and, for the first time in the three years that we’d known each other, the silence between us was awkward as fuck.

I hated that shit.

I fucking hated it and I had no one to blame but myself. I knew that, which is why I was here trying to fix things.

In the parking lot, we climbed into my truck and buckled in as I navigated out onto the street and headed toward the restaurant. It was quiet for a few minutes as we rolled along before Jucee spoke up.

“You’re not playing music.”

My eyebrows shot up and I stole a quick glance over at her. She was staring at the dashboard, her face pinched into a frown. Then she turned toward me.

“You never ride in silence,” she uttered—no, accused.

Her voice was a bundle of tightly woven cords. She sounded put off, as if I was doing something wrong by not having music on. Like I was committing a heinous crime. Brows lifted, I reached over and pressed the power button on the radio, instantly flooding the vehicle with the latest mix I’d made.

“My bad,” I murmured, wondering why I felt so guilty. “I guess I just had a lot on my mind and I didn’t even think to turn anything on.”

Although my eyes were back on the road, I could feel the intensity of her gaze on the side of my face. It truly hadn’t occurred to me that she would think anything of the fact that there was no music playing, and I wasn’t lying when I said that I had a lot of my mind, but she was correct when she said I never rode in silence. There always needed to be some music in the background no matter where I was, always some new song that I needed to be listening to. There was always something.

But today, right now? That something was on pause until I mended this thing between me and Jucee. The regularly scheduled programming could resume when things felt regular again.

Besides, her breathing was a little heavy and slightly erratic. I might not have noticed it if the music had been blasting, but in the silent truck I could hear that very well. And maybe—this might make me sound like a psycho, but—hearing her breathe, knowing that those breaths were uneven and a little fast-paced, made me feel good. It warmed my chest a bit and took away some of the sting of her withheld affection, because it meant that she was nervous too. And if she was nervous then that meant she hadn’t made her mind up about us, and if she hadn’t made her mind up about us, then there was a pretty good chance that I could fix this. There was an in for me there, and that brought me some comfort.

Nothing else was said as I drove us into Third Ward and parked in a lot on Almeda. We got out of the truck and walked up a block until we reached Turkey Leg Hut. It was just after eleven on a Wednesday and there was no line at all. We walked right in and were seated immediately. We chose to sit on the patio, figuring it would give us more privacy to have our conversation. Under the white tents we were shielded from the sun and there were fans going, so it was bearable and not too bad at all. A few minutes after we were seated, a young guy with a thick afro puff gathered at the top of his head came over to us.

“How’re y’all doing? My name is Denny and I’ll be your server today. Can I get y’all started off with some drinks?”

“What’s up, Denny? I’m gonna have this frozen strawberry lemonade that you guys have, ’cause this picture looks amazing.” I nodded at Jucee. “And she’ll have the sweet tea.”

To his credit, Denny looked at Jucee with his eyebrows raised, waiting for confirmation from her. When she nodded, he returned the gesture and wrote the things on the notepad he carried.

“We’ll also have two ice waters, please,” Jucee added before he could turn and walk off.

Pulling out her phone, Jucee scanned the barcode sticker at the edge of the table and began to peruse the menu that popped up on her phone.

“I know you want to talk,” she began, raising her eyes up to meet mine before dropping them right back to the screen, “but let me just figure out what I want to eat first.”

I nodded. That was reasonable. I’d been to the Turkey Leg Hut before, but Jucee never had, even though she’d been in Houston for three years. It was a very popular restaurant that was infamous for its long lines and even longer wait for the food. Coming during the week was the perfect time to not only treat her to a meal she’d been waiting to have, but also to lay all my cards on the table. This was also a calculated move for me, because Jucee was always more malleable with a full stomach. Whether her stomach was full of laughter, my strap, good food, or drink.

“No problem at all,” I said as I followed suit and scanned the QR code for the menu. “I was thinking we could share a turkey leg stuffed with crawfish mac and cheese, and you can get whatever else you want on the side. What you think?”

She moaned. “That sounds amazing! Yes, let’s do that!”

Chuckling, I scrolled the page until I found the section of sides and decided what else I wanted to order. When I was finished, I darkened my screen and folded my arms on top of the table and stared at the woman across from me. Now that I’d accepted how I felt about her, and I allowed myself to feel those feelings, I was no longer scared by the depth of emotions I had just by seeing her. Watching her now, the way her eyes lit up as her thumb dragged up and down her screen, excited me. I loved it. I just loved looking at her.

Taking in the warm hue of her skin, the gloss on her lips, remembering the way they felt against mine when I kissed her at the gym, wanting to taste them again, the way her hair was styled. It had been in a bun at the gym, but she’d taken it down when she came out of her bedroom. The braided yellow tassel earrings that hung from her earlobes that matched her outfit. The way we sort of matched despite the fits not being exactly the same. She had on the city’s basketball team colors and I had on the city’s football team colors. It was as if we had planned it that way, but we were just on the same wavelength like that, and that said something to me. It meant something.

But just because we were on the same wavelength when it came to outfits, and because the sex was always amazing, and because she was my very best friend, it didn’t mean that we had to be together. I wanted to be with her, more than I ever wanted anything in my life, which was saying a lot considering I always wanted to be in the music business. The way I felt about Juleesa Marie Jones was unlike anything I had ever experienced before, and that terrified me. But I loved her enough to fight past the fear.

I just needed her to love me enough to give me a second chance and an opportunity to undo the shitty things that I had done when I was trying to fight this thing between us.

“You two ready to order?” Denny placed our drinks on the table and then tucked the round server under his arm and pulled his notepad back out.

Pulling a pen from behind his ear, he looked at us and waited. I nodded at Jucee to go first. She rattled off her order as Denny scribbled everything onto his notepad and then turned to me. I gave him the order of the turkey leg and decided on sides of dirty rice and cowboy beans. Once he had everything, he started to back away when Jucee called out to him.

“Hold on now, Denny. Let me taste this tea before you go, because if it’s not sweet enough I’m going to need something else.”

Denny grinned. “Do you have diabetes?”

Eyes wide, Jucee shook her head. “No...”

“Well, let’s just say you might after drinking that tea.”

I cracked up. He was funny.

Jucee danced in her seat as she pulled the drink toward her and grabbed the straw Denny had placed on the table. She gave the drink a stir with the straw before taking a healthy sip. With her lips puckered, she sat back on the bench seat and bounced her shoulders.

“Oooh,”she drawled. “Now that is how I like my tea! Thank you, Denny!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a slight bow before spinning on his heel and heading back to the restaurant.

Reaching for my own straw, I pulled it and the frosted glass that held my drink toward me. It was so hot outside that I could already see my drink melting back into pure liquid at the bottom of the glass. So, I used the straw to stir the drink back up and then tasted it. It was amazing. The perfect combination of tart and sweet, which was exactly how I liked my fruity lemonades. I drank it down a little bit more, loving the feel of the coolness traveling down my chest, fighting the heat. Pushing it to the side, I once again folded my arms across the table as I looked up at Jucee. It was now or never.

“So...”

Jucee sighed and linked her fingers on top of the table. The sound was a mixture of resignation and dread. There was a slight warble that indicated her nerves as well. Was she as nervous as I was? Was she anxious in the same way that I was? Did she have the same fear that this might be the end of us like I did?

So many questions. There were so, so many that I had, and the only way I would get an answer was if I started to speak. So I did.

“I love you so much, Jucee.”

Her eyebrows rose and she sat forward as if she was preparing to speak, but I held my hand up to stop her. “Just...just let me get everything out first before you say anything. Even if it sounds like something that you’re supposed to respond to immediately like a question or whatever, just let me finish, please. Please?”

She nodded but otherwise didn’t say a word. Nodding my thank-you, I took a deep breath before continuing on.

“I love you so much, Jucee.” She sucked in a breath, but to her credit she didn’t say a word. She rolled her lips inward as she sat forward, propping her elbows on the table and bouncing her chin on her closed fist.

“I know it’s been a bumpy road while we find our footing in this romance thing, and—” I grinned sheepishly “—I can admit that most of the speed bumps were caused by me.” Lifting an arm onto the table, I opened my hand palm-up. To my relief, Jucee instantly placed her hand over mine, wrapping her fingers around my wrist. “But I want you, I want us, and I want to do all of the necessary shit to smooth the road and keep moving forward.”

I waited for her to speak or give me some sort of a reaction that said she heard me and agreed, or something, but the only thing I got was her biting her bottom lip and looking out over the street. Trying not to immediately take it negatively, I blew a breath out through my nose and squeezed her hand.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. If you need some time, you can have what you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes flitted back to me and her lips lifted upward marginally. “Thank you for understanding. There’s a lot to process and I just need the space to do that.”

I blinked. There it was again. That slight bump in the rhythm of her voice that let me know something was off. I wanted to demand she confess every single thought, big and small, that caused her hesitation. I wanted to insist that she spill it all so I can know precisely how to soothe those concerns, but if I did any of that then I’d be contradicting myself. If I said she didn’t have to say anything right now then I had to stand on that.

Nodding, I lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“No problem,” I murmured with a confidence I didn’t feel.